


Early days

by Arisprite, username_goes_here



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Errand-boy Doumeki, Shopkeeper Watanuki, a lot of sleeping and angst, mention of wounds and blood, poorly executed wish-granting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-03-16 17:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3496259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arisprite/pseuds/Arisprite, https://archiveofourown.org/users/username_goes_here/pseuds/username_goes_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watanuki was fine, he was fine. He'd learn how to grant wishes, and run the shop, just, just until Yuuko came back, and then everything would be fine.</p><p>(Oh, god, he was not fine, please...)</p><p>Immediately after Watanuki becomes shopkeeper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Doumeki came back the next day. Well, Watanuki assumed it was the next day, he really wasn't too sure. After everything that had happened… it was hard to stay awake, to keep track of time. What did it matter anyways, it didn't affect him.

Watanuki had fallen asleep on the couch - on Yuuko's couch - pipe still in-hand and a bottle of sake nearby. He barely bothered to tie the kimono he wore, a deep blue, almost black, embroidered with delicate golden vines and flowers. It was beautiful and it was Yuuko's and he would wear it if she couldn't. He wouldn't let these kimonos gather dust in storage. No, he would make sure they saw use, and then she wouldn't… she wouldn't be completely gone. Between the kimonos and her pipe and the shop, Watanuki would continue as Yuuko.

He awoke groggily, hungover and with burning lungs, when something banged in the back of his mind. It wasn't a natural headache though, and it was gone quickly. He sat up, looking around to find the source of the disturbance, gathering the folds of the robe around him to remain decent, but not too decent - plenty of leg and far too much chest and it barely stayed on his shoulders. Maybe if he bothered to tie it correctly (which he should, these robes deserve it), it would stay on better, but that would make sleeping uncomfortable. Maybe when Watanuki wasn't so tired, he could do these clothes justice. But god, he was just so tired. Maybe he was upset, or maybe it took too much power become the shopkeeper. Or maybe the shop itself was draining him. He didn't know. Didn't care.

"Welcome home!"

"Welcome home!"

Maru and Moro were greeting someone. Someone they knew, apparently. Kohane wouldn't know to come, unless Oba-chan sent her, but Oba-chan wouldn't send Kohane right now. Himawari they had only met the once, and Himawari wasn't… wasn't allowed in the shop. The shop Watanuki couldn't leave now.

He couldn't leave.

He was stuck. Tied down, but barely present, it felt like.

That was the price though. He would stay, he would stay and time wouldn't touch him. Not until Yuuko came back.

And she would come back. She would. This was her shop. This was her life here, and she couldn't just leave it. She couldn't just abandon the shop. Abandon her kimonos. Abandon this pipe. Abandon her sake. Abandon Mokona. Abandon Maru and Moro.

Abandon Watanuki.

No, she wouldn't just leave Watanuki here alone, so alone, so she must be coming back.

So he would wait.

He would wait in the shop as long as it took.

"I don't live here," came the voice that replied to Maru and Moro.

It turned out to be Doumeki entering the shop. Seemed he still had business here. Maybe he had a wish. Maybe it was necessary on some other level. Watanuki didn't know, that was decided before his time as shopkeeper.

Watanuki didn't bother to leave the sofa. Doumeki would come to him. Watanuki couldn't go to anyone anymore, so Doumeki would have to come to him or not come at all.

So he leaned back and put the pipe back in his mouth and waited. Doumeki would probably to try to knock some sense into him. He could hear it now.

_You idiot. You're an idiot. This isn't what she wanted. This isn't what you want. Don't do this to yourself. Blah blah, you bastard._

Watanuki wasn't sure he wanted to hear it, but at the same time he wasn't sure that he didn't want to hear it.

Doumeki entered the room, pausing in the doorway with widened eyes.

Watanuki shifted in his pose, crossing his nearly-bare legs and holding the pipe lazily in his right hand. He gave Doumeki a look that verged on a leer - that's what Yuuko did, will do again someday - and waited. Doumeki barely raised an eyebrow, and held up a bag he had in his hands.

"Groceries," he said.

So he wasn't there to lecture Watanuki. Good. He didn't need a lecture. He made his choice to stay. He didn't have anything outside the shop anyways. Couldn't remember anything that wasn't the shop, and wasn't Doumeki or Himawari. Were it not for them, would it just be the shop? Would he have been stuck here the whole time anyways?

Probably. He was already tied to this place in memory, so what difference was it to tie him here physically?

"Groceries?" repeated Watanuki, a little confused.

"Yeah. You can't get your own."

And then he left the room, presumably for the kitchen, and didn't come back until the next day. Probably the next day? Who knew.

Watanuki didn't touch the groceries. He didn't feel like cooking. What point was cooking if Yuuko wasn't there? And he wasn't cooking for Doumeki. No, no there wasn't a reason to cook for just Doumeki. Besides, Watanuki wasn't hungry anyways. Maru and Moro and Mokona didn't really need to eat, and there was plenty of food for them to make something themselves if they wanted.

So Watanuki fell asleep and dreamed the same as always.

It was winter, on the porch. It wasn't winter in actuality, but it was on the porch with Haruka. Snow fell from the sky, but it wasn't cold. It was never cold in dreams. It was never warm either. It was never anything but there.

Haruka was smoking, as usual, and had a soft look on his face. Much softer than anything he'd seen on Doumeki, and he couldn't even imagine Doumeki making some of the faces Haruka did, for all that they were identical. Sometimes, he thought it might be nice to see those faces on Doumeki, but then he shoved that aside because what did that matter?

"So I hear you're the new shopkeeper," Haruka said after a few breaths of his cigarette.

Watanuki looked away, staring out at the snow that fell in the dreamscape they sat in.

"Mm. I'm temporary," he told him. And he was. He was temporary. Would only be here until the true shopkeeper came back. He wouldn't be here forever, not at all.

Again, not that time mattered. It didn't affect him. It wouldn't affect him until that day. Until the day she returned. Days would blur together after a while. They already did. Already had before. He had never remembered full days anyways. Didn't even remember that he didn't remember.

Haruka laughed. "Is that so?"

"Yes." And he was sure of it. Watanuki was so sure of it. He was wishing so hard, so _hard_ , so how could she not come back?

_If you wish for something with all your heart…_

And Watanuki was wishing with all his _soul_ , was paying with his entire _self_ , so she _had_ to come back.

"Well then, you have quite a bit to learn, don't you?"

Learn? He had to…

Yes. He was the shopkeeper for the time being. Not forever, no, and not for long (he hoped), but he had to do his best, do it well. He would never do it as well as Yuuko could, but he very well had to do _something_.

"I suppose I do," Watanuki agreed.

Haruka looked at him with sad eyes and Watanuki wondered why. Maybe he was mourning Yuuko as well. Maybe he was mourning something else. Or maybe… God, Watanuki didn't know. He didn't know Haruka, didn't know Doumeki. Probably never would understand that family.

The couch was warm. Too warm. But his legs were bare and cold. Dreams didn't have temperature, didn't have feeling, but the real world had too much feeling sometimes. Both physically and in other ways.

That headache again, and this time Watanuki forced himself to stand. He'd been in the same position too long, and his arm was asleep and it hummed and stung and he shook it out to wake it up. He put the pipe in his mouth and held it there as he rubbed the arm with his other, and then Doumeki walked in.

"Groceries," he said again. Grocery shopping again? Hadn't he just…

"Didn't you just…?" Watanuki began, pipe muffling the words.

"Yesterday."

Watanuki laughed once, half-heartedly. "Yesterday, hm?"

Doumeki put the groceries in the kitchen, and left.

Watanuki went back to Yuuko's closet to find a new kimono. Can't wear the same one two days in a row, Yuuko would never.

He went about the shop in a daze. A lot of smoking, very little thinking. Thinking was hard, sometimes. Too many thoughts, but too few at the same time. There wasn't anything for him to do but wait.

Just wait.

Keep waiting.

As long as it takes.

As long as his price demanded.

But that was his decision. His decision to stay. To remain. To stop. Stop everything.

Haruka offered him a cigarette. He took it. The burn wasn't as bad as Yuuko's pipe, but Yuuko's pipe wasn't so bad anymore.

Didn't matter though. It wouldn't affect him. Nothing affected him now, right?

They sat on the porch and watched as sakura petals blew in a springtime breeze he couldn't feel.

It wasn't really spring, but seasons didn't matter in a dream. Seasons only mattered in the real world.

"Any customers yet?" Haruka asked after a long silence.

Watanuki shook his head. "None yet." He paused. "They'll come. Only Doumeki comes to the shop for now."

"And what does Shizuka think of this?" Haruka looked genuinely curious, interested.

Watanuki frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest, unsure why he was so annoyed at the question.

"Doumeki has been bringing me groceries, and that's all." He'd said barely anything to Watanuki since everything happened, and all he did was bring useless food.

"I see." Haruka seemed to read something in that though. Read what? What did he see that Watanuki couldn't?

Then again, Haruka always saw a lot of things Watanuki couldn't.

A headache. Someone was coming. Doumeki again? Maybe.

Watanuki adjusted the green robe he wore and tied it as best he could without help. Which wasn't very good, but it stayed on and that's all that really mattered.

Sure enough, Doumeki was standing at the step, taking his shoes off.

"Groceries?"

"You let your vegetables go bad," Doumeki told him, then went to the kitchen.

Vegetables? What was Doumeki even buying? Watanuki hadn't even looked. Hadn't cared to. Still didn't care to.

Doumeki left without another word, and Watanuki sat back on his - Yuuko's - couch, and smoked.

Another headache. Doumeki?

No.

Maru and Moro ran to the door and dragged in a girl about Watanuki's age.

"A customer for the master!"

"A customer for the master!"

Watanuki posed. Posed like Yuuko did. Let the kimono drape over him in just the right places. Held Yuuko's pipe in his hand to the side, adding the smoke needed to create the right atmosphere.

He looked lazy, he knew, but inside he was reeling. A customer. God, it hadn't been long, had it? This was too soon, too soon. There wasn't any way he could…

But he was the shopkeeper, this was his price.

"Hello," Watanuki said, with a small smile.

The girl looked around, confused and a little scared. He understood, he'd been on that side before.

"I- I'm so sorry. Um, I didn't mean to! I was just walking and then it felt like I was supposed to go inside your home and I- I couldn't stop my feet."

"That's alright," Watanuki assured her. "You coming here was inevitable. Hitsuzen."

"I… I…"

"You have a wish, don't you?" he asked. He knew she did. Could feel it on some level. And besides, she wouldn't even be able to _see_ the shop, let alone enter it, without some sort of necessity. Some sort of wish.

"Why would I…"

"This is a shop. For granting wishes." Oh god, oh god, he wasn't ready for this not yet he didn't know anything. He never knew anything though, he would learn.

"Granting wishes?" she repeated.

"Yes. For a price."

"Oh. Oh, um…"

She wrung her hands together and shuffled her feet. Watanuki stood up and put the pipe aside.

"I'll brew some tea," he said. "Have a seat in there, and I'll hear your wish."

Maru pulled and Moro pushed the girl into the sitting room, and Watanuki headed to the kitchen.

There he saw multiple bags of groceries, all full to the brim. The bastard didn't even bother to put them away, no wonder the vegetables went bad.

And what a shame. Doumeki had bought some high-quality stuff, it looked like. Nothing less from that glutton. Probably expected Watanuki to just cook his bentos for him all the time, even though Watanuki was now busy… doing… Watanuki didn't really know what he was doing.

Was Yuuko this confused when she first became shopkeeper? How did she learn everything? What did she do when she wasn't granting wishes and drinking? Who knew. Watanuki didn't know. There was so much he'd never find out about her.

But he had a customer. He could think about this later. Or not-think later. Whatever happened.

He brought out the tea and placed it on the table, then poured a cup for his customer.

She was short, with dark hair and dark eyes. She wore a high school uniform, though not his own (not that it was his anymore, he wasn't going there and no one knew him anyway, he was pretty sure. Did he ever go there? Did people notice his disappearance? If so, was it when he became the shopkeeper, or when he'd lost his memories? Doesn't matter.).

She sipped at the tea, then set the cup down and put her hands in her lap again, looking down and away from him.

"Um… You said you granted wishes."

"This is a wish-granting shop, yes." Watanuki wasn't sure he granted wishes, didn't know how to. What was he doing, what has he done?

"Then… I have a wish," she said, and Watanuki's heart sped up.

"I'll hear it then."

She bit her lip and looked back up at Watanuki. "It's just… I lost something."

"Did you now?"

"Yes. Um, I lost something very precious to me."

"What did you lose?" he asked.

"Um. It's going to sound really stupid," she said.

"If it's precious to you, then it can't be stupid."

"Well… it's a book. Um, it was written by someone very close to me, and she signed it as a joke and wrote a message in it." She laughed, but it sounded sad. "...And she died recently… I know, I know I can't have _her_ back, but… if I could just have that book, then maybe I could feel close to her again."

Watanuki took a breath. He could understand the sentiment. Was that not what he was doing with Yuuko's kimonos? With her pipe? With this shop? But Yuuko would come back some day.

"I can grant that wish," he said, not knowing whether or not he could but the words came out anyways.

Her eyes widened and she took in a sharp breath. "You can? Truly?"

"Yes." How? How was he going to grant this wish? "I'll require a price though."

"Anything. I'll give you anything, please."

Watanuki's heart went out to the girl. He could tell, just _tell_ that this girl had lost her most important person, just as he had. If he was going to grant this wish… He didn't want to ask too much of her. No, no, a bit of kindness. A gift! He'd given plenty of gifts in his life. Gift-giving is just a display of your feelings, isn't it? Feelings didn't require a price. He would just ask for something small, and the deficit was, was a gift to her.

"That bracelet." He picked out the first thing he saw on the girl.

"My bracelet?" she asked.

"Yes."

"This was given to me by my sister, but I can get a new one. That's not a big deal at all." The girl look relieved, and a little surprised.

She took off the bracelet and handed it to him.

He took it, stood up, and spoke before thinking. "I'm going to take this to the back. Please wait here."

The girl nodded enthusiastically, and stayed in her seat.

He passed through the kitchen on the way to the storeroom. The bags were still on the counter, not that he expected them to move or anything, but they just were there. Not like other things were just there. They… grabbed his attention, he supposed.

The storeroom was large. Far larger than Watanuki felt could fit in the shop, but then again it was _Yuuko's_ shop, so who really knew.

There was a good spot for the bracelet on the shelf, so he set it there then turned to leave, but something caught his eye.

A book. Small, brown, no title, with a light cover of dust on it.

Watanuki picked it up, and found an inscription inside the front cover.

_To Hana, who was definitely the inspiration for the antagonist in this book because she is the worst. I love you!_

The signature was indecipherable, but the message made Watanuki smile.

He didn't know how the book ended up in storage, or what happened, but a wish was granted and it was a good day.

Hana, the girl's name _was_ Hana and it _was_ her book, cried when he handed it to her. She traced over the cover, and read the message inside at least three times.

"How did you find it? Was it here the whole time? Did you have it here? How did you get it?"

She asked him questions he didn't know the answer to, so he just told her, "Hitsuzen."

She sniffed, and wiped her tears away, then left, thanking him.

The moment she left, Watanuki learned his first lesson.

The shop required balance, and if the customer didn't provide that balance… The remainder came from the shopkeeper - from _Watanuki_ \- in whatever way the shop, or perhaps the universe, saw fit.

Watanuki collapsed to the floor as he felt something slash his heel. Looking down at it, he saw a deep slice that was bleeding warm, red blood.

_Oh god what have I done?_

That girl got what she wanted, got her wish, but Watanuki, Watanuki had to pay the price. He couldn't name the correct price, so he paid it himself, whether he wanted to or not.

He put pressure on the wound - that's what you did, right? - and called for Maru and Moro. They ran to him, eyes wide and faces full of concern. Did they know on some level? They were connected to the shop, maybe they did know.

"I need some bandages," he said nonchalantly and smiling.

The both nodded, and ran off.

Sneaking another peak at his heel, it occurred to him that he might need stitches. What if he needed stitches? Where would he go? He couldn't, couldn't go to the hospital. Someone would have to come to him, but who knew when a doctor might be passing by with a wish. Hitsuzen wasn't always that forgiving.

He took deep breaths, trying not to panic.

What had he gotten himself into? _What did he do?_ The universe demanded balance, balance, and here he was needing to keep it whether he wanted to or not, and this was his price, his price, his decision, he did this, he would live with it, live so long and he didn't know what he was doing, what was he doing, how was he supposed to learn this if no one could _tell_ him anything, he would just, would just, what would happen if he misjudged prices too badly, would he die? He could die, die like this, before Yuuko, before Yuuko-

Maru and Moro came back with a first aid kit and tended to his foot. The antiseptic stung, and the gash was deep, but he didn't think he needed stitches, thank god. Thank god, thank hitsuzen, really. Heh.

They each kissed the bandage before wrapping his foot in it, and Watanuki couldn't help but smile at that. They were so sweet. So sweet and he couldn't replace Yuuko, but he'd try for now.

He hugged them close, and held them for a moment.

"Thank you," he said, holding back tears, though he wasn't sure why.

That damn headache again. He didn't want it to be a customer, not another customer, he couldn't, couldn't deal with that, he was laying on the floor with blood around him and a bandaged foot and what if he messed up again? He would mess up again. No! No, he wouldn't wrap himself, tie himself down in his own words. He would learn. In time he would learn. People generally did.

It wasn't a customer though. It was Doumeki again, holding bags of groceries.

Watanuki sat on the floor and looked up at him, daring him to comment. Daring him to call him an idiot or tell him how stupid he was.

Doumeki took the scene in quickly, then dropped the bags and came towards Watanuki. Came closer. Didn't just stand in the doorway and move onto the kitchen and leave.

Watanuki didn't move. Didn't even blink.

"What happened?" Doumeki asked - _demanded_ \- as if Watanuki was some sort of child playing with things he shouldn't. Maybe he was.

Watanuki took a breath, and tried to find the words to explain it. He could barely explain it to himself, how could he explain it to Doumeki? Doumeki couldn't understand the shop. Couldn't understand him, not anymore.

"I granted a wish," he said softly. After a moment he smiled and added, "I granted it wrong."

Doumeki's jaw tightened. "This came from a wish?"

"Yes and no. It isn't…" He trailed off, but didn't look away from Doumeki's eyes. Wanted to see what he would do. "I didn't take enough. I will next time," he added quickly, and made a move to stand.

Doumeki tried to help him up. Did help him up, with a warm hand on his arm, but he shivered when Watanuki was standing on his own. It looked like he'd tried not to but… he did.

Why? Why did he shudder like that? Just, just because he was helping Watanuki stand up? No, no, that wouldn't cause such a reaction. It was almost as if Doumeki was disgusted.

Disgusted with what? With the blood? No, he'd helped carry Watanuki to the shop covered in blood, it wasn't that. In fact, he'd carried Watanuki multiple times, helped him up even more times, grabbed his arm more than that, and never, not once, did he shiver like this.

Was it Watanuki? Had he done something? Well, of course he'd done something, but something to warrant disgust like that…

Watanuki pulled away. Pulled away quickly. Was there something so _wrong_ about him now that Doumeki - _Doumeki_ \- who helped him when Watanuki didn't even want it, who was so unshakable, immovable… That a person like that would react to Watanuki in such a way…

Not for the first time since… everything, Watanuki asked himself what the hell he thought he was doing. What made him think he could do this? Why, why, why did he do this? What had he… What had he done?

And then he remembered why. For Yuuko. To see Yuuko again. For her.

He took a step back, limping on his now-bad foot. How long would it take to heal, he wondered. The same amount of time? Shorter? Would it forever be like that?

God, there was so much he didn't know, he didn't know, he didn't, how was he supposed to, why couldn't he-

Shouldn't there be a manual for this sort of thing?

And the thought made him laugh. A manual. For keeping a wishing-shop. Who would have written it, he wondered. Yuuko? That Clow Reed she spoke of so fondly and disdainfully? Or maybe it would just appear one day in the storeroom if he wished hard enough.

No, his wishing was saved for Yuuko. And he would never stop wishing for her. No matter how hard this was, and how hard it would continue to be…

But god, he needed to figure this out. He needed to get this under control, no more, no more customers until he… he what? Practiced? Practiced how?

He supposed it really would be trial and error and the thought sent a shiver down his own spine. (Maybe that's why Doumeki shivered too. Maybe- no.)

Doumeki stared at him, wide-eyed and scared, and it took a moment for Watanuki to realize why. To remember that he'd just laughed at nothing at all.

"I was just thinking about how a manual would have been useful," he explained, then laughed again.

God, he must have sounded crazy. "Take- take your groceries home," he said, then turned away, limping back to his - Yuuko's - couch. "I'm fine. I'm fine. It'll…" He didn't know what it would do. Would it heal? He didn't know. He didn't know and Doumeki didn't know and Doumeki was, was _disgusted_ with it - with _him_. "I'm fine."

He was fine. He would be.

_(I'm not fine, I'm not fine, what do I do, what do I do? Someone tell me what to do, help me, I thought it was fine I didn't, didn't know what it meant when I did this, please help!)_

He would figure this out on his own.


	2. Chapter 2

Watanuki obsessively checked his foot, just to make sure it healed. He wasn't sure, didn't know what the shop would judge as a proper price. Besides, his time was stopped… and he really didn't know what that entailed. He wouldn't age, he knew that, could almost feel it, but what about healing from injuries? Or, or, would his hair grow? What about food? Did he need that, or was he hungry out of habit?

But apparently he did need sleep. God, did he need sleep. He spent most of his time either on the bed or on the sofa and the injured foot wasn't much help in wanting to get up.

Springtime again on the porch. Haruka was smoking his usual cigarette. It had been a few days (maybe?) since he'd seen Haruka, but he always showed up on his own time.

Watanuki couldn't remember falling asleep, but really, Watanuki never remembered falling asleep. He was just sort of there.

"Haruka-san," he greeted him.

"Watanuki-kun."

There was a silence as Watanuki gathered his thoughts and Haruka just gave him that smile he always wore.

"Haruka-san, you said… You said I had a lot to learn…"

Haruka laughed. "That's true, young shopkeeper." His tone was teasing, but Watanuki didn't feel like obliging him.

"Does that mean you can teach me?" Watanuki asked instead, hesitantly.

"Maybe. Depends on the question, doesn't it?"

He did have a point there.

Watanuki took a breath. "Then, I have some questions."

"Ask away."

He didn't know where to start.

"I granted a wish."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I, I don't know how exactly, it was the shop, I think, but… I didn't take enough payment and…"

"Ah." Haruka took a long breath from his cigarette and leaned back on the porch. "The shop demands balance."

"I know that, but… It was a gift. Gifts are from feelings, right? I've given gifts, I can-"

"No. You can't give gifts, Watanuki-kun," he told him, confirming what Watanuki had suspected, but didn't want to believe. "If you give, you must take, and it must be equal, or the shop will take it from you."

"Will it happen again?"

Haruka didn't reply. Either way, he didn't need to. Already knew the reply.

It would. It would happen again. It would happen often, until he got the hang of it. But he'd rather get hurt than overcharge a customer. He'd probably get hurt anyways, if he overcharged a customer.

He was tied to this shop now. Tied to immovable rules and magic that was far older, and far more powerful than anything Watanuki could do.

It felt like he was wrapped in strings, each one set in their place and he couldn't move them, but he'd put them there himself, so he had to accept them. Let them loop and tie and curl around him, keeping him pinned, and in place.

At the same time, it felt like… He didn't have anything. He had nothing. He was just floating, falling. Tied up and falling and failing and so far away.

Watanuki shook the thoughts out of his head, then looked down at his foot, which wasn't injured in the dream, but he could feel the echo of the slash he received in the shop.

"Will it heal?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer. "I, I stopped my time and I don't know how much of the price I have to make up, or if it's going to stay this way? Do you think…?" He trailed off.

Haruka shrugged. "I don't know much about stopped time. Yuuko-san healed from injuries - much more quickly than humans. I think you will too. Give it time."

"Wait- Was Yuuko-san… not human?"

"She was and she wasn't."

A surge of panic went through him.

"Does that mean I…"

"Won't be human?" Haruka finished for him.

Watanuki nodded slowly.

"I suppose it depends on your definition of human, doesn't it?"

The couch was suddenly very uncomfortable, and Watanuki stood up quickly, too quickly, he felt dizzy and he'd put too much pressure on his foot and Yuuko's kimono was nearly falling off.

A headache, the usual headache. A customer? Or Doumeki? Those were the only options, really. He didn't know which one he dreaded more at the moment.

Maru and Moro ran past him with smiles on their faces, and Mokona bounded over.

Doumeki then.

Watanuki evened his breathing as best he could before Doumeki came in, but his eyes were still wide and his hands still shook.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

He should've, he should've have gotten all the information. He should've asked someone. But who, who could have told him? He, he knew he would remain in the shop for, for a long time, probably, and he knew, he knew time wouldn't touch him, but, but, but he didn't know what that would entail. He'd made the decision, but he had none of the information and now he was here, he was here he couldn't do anything about it and he was just, was just making it all up as he went along and finding out something new to panic about almost every day ( _Every day? How many days? How long have I been here? God, I'll be here forever - no, no only until Yuuko comes. Yuuko will come, Yuuko will fix this, she would, she would_ ).

Doumeki entered the room, a large paper bag in tow and Mokona on his shoulder.

Watanuki adjusted his - Yuuko's robe and tightened the sash, though he still left plenty of skin showing (why? why bother? what sort of reaction was he looking for?).

"Takeout?" he asked, frowning and shifting his weight off his bad foot.

"You're not cooking," Doumeki told him flatly, as if Watanuki wasn't aware of that or something. "You need to eat."

"Do I?" He asked the question out loud, not meaning to, and immediately regretted it. "What did you expect, for me to keep making your bentos every day? Send you off with lunch every morning?" he asked pointedly, trying to cover up. Doumeki had already reacted to him with disgust, he didn't want to find out how much worse would it be if he brought up any of his real concerns.

(It couldn't be that much worse, maybe he could help, maybe he would- no.)

Doumeki seemed to consider the question. Was it really something to consider? What _did_ Doumeki think was going to happen? What did _Watanuki_ think was going to happen?

He didn't know, didn't know. He was tired. Was Yuuko this tired?

"C'mon, the french fries will get cold," was all Doumeki said, then turned around and headed for the kitchen. Again. Like usual. What else was new? He came, said three sentences at most, and then left. Not that Watanuki expected much else from him. He had always been like that.

No. No, they talked before this. Not for a great deal of time, but they had. They had grown to understand one another. God, he irked Watanuki to no end, but… they _had_ grown close, in a way.

Now though… He was so far away.

Everyone was far away.

So Doumeki went to the kitchen and Watanuki wasn't sure he would follow. Doumeki would probably put the bag on the counter, then leave, like he always did, so what was the point?

But then again, what was the point of laying back down on the couch?

So he stood in the same spot. Not moving. Waiting for some sort of direction.

"-here?"

Doumeki was talking.

"What?" Watanuki asked, then processed what he'd just said.

_Did you want to eat it in here?_

No. No he didn't. He didn't want it at all. But… he hadn't eaten since… he didn't know, and he didn't want to cook and didn't have any food and…

He took in a breath, and tried to pick an act. Yuuko? Or himself? Would he bat his eyelashes and lay back on the sofa with his - her - pipe? Or would he yell and stomp and grab the bag from Doumeki and shoo him away?

"The kitchen is fine," Watanuki said. He spoke low, softly, not at all how he used to.

He then limped his way to the kitchen, following Doumeki, hoping the guy would leave the moment he set the bag down. (Hoping he would stay and talk.) Hoping he would just leave him alone. (Please no, don't go.)

And then Doumeki turned around and shoved the hamburger in Watanuki's face. "Here," he said. "I got one without pickles."

Watanuki jerked back, almost losing balance. He hadn't expected a cheeseburger to be shoved in his face. It was the closest Doumeki had come in a while, and the most invasive he'd been since… Everything. At least he didn't seem… disgusted anymore. Seemed almost normal. Rude, obnoxious, and uncivil, yes, but normal.

"You don't have to shove it in my face," Watanuki muttered despite himself, grabbing the food and unwrapping it to inspect under the bun. Sure enough, no pickles. Good - who put pickles on a hamburger anyways? "It's rude."

So Doumeki shoved some french fries in his face too. More food for Watanuki to take. Which was quite a reversal from him usually shoving empty hands in his direction, expecting them to be filled with food.

And truly… these were Watanuki's favorite french fries. As far as fast-food went. Which wasn't far, obviously. So he quickly snatched the fries with his free hand and sat down, holding a cheeseburger in one hand and fries in the other and suddenly not sure he could muscle it down, especially not with Doumeki staring at him the whole time.

"Don't you have anywhere else you could be?" he asked, none too happily, then put one of the french fries in his mouth.

God, how long had it been since he'd eaten, that this stupid over-salted deep-fried potato tasted so good?

Doumeki sat down, and took his usual forever to answer questions ( _why won't you talk?_ ), so Watanuki just ate fries and waited.

"It's Sunday," he finally replied.

"Sunday?" Watanuki repeated after swallowing. "Wasn't it just… Wednesday? No. No that was…" He trailed off, then took a bite of his burger. So it was Sunday now, which meant that yesterday was Saturday… was that when he granted the wish? No, was that Friday? What time was it anyways?

Suddenly he felt tired again, and leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Not sleeping though, not yet.

"Oi-"

_My name is not 'Oi.'_

"Eat some more."

Watanuki sat back up, blinking at Doumeki, who had apparently made it his mission today to get him to eat.

"I'm tired," he said, but he did take a bite out of the burger. Maybe when he was done, Doumeki would leave (don't leave). "Why are you here?"

Doumeki took another bite of his food, and answered with his mouth full.

"Where else would I be?"

"Home?" Watanuki suggested, biting off another fry, but starting to feel too full, even though he hadn't eaten much. "Or at practice?"

Then again, he was always with Watanuki before all this, he must have just thought he still needed to stay around him. Or maybe he felt obligated to bring him things.

Doumeki shrugged, but said nothing.

Watanuki wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him that there was no reason for him to be here, but... Well, if there wasn't a necessity, then Doumeki wouldn't be able to enter the shop, right? The fact that he was still here, still entering the shop... It meant... something. Maybe it just meant the shop cared about Watanuki getting groceries.

He set aside the rest of his food, and stood up, avoiding pressure on his foot. "Thank you for the food," he said, bowing his head slightly, then began to retreat to the couch again, mainly to get Yuuko's pipe, but also because he felt like he could fall asleep right then and there. Kind of wanted to.

Doumeki didn't follow, and Watanuki didn't care (he cared a lot), so he laid back on his couch and smoked Yuuko's pipe.

-

"But how do I know what the price is?"

Summer now. It was summer in the real world too, and the porch looked the same as it did outside and it made it difficult to distinguish the dream from reality.

But Haruka was there and Watanuki wasn't wearing glasses and he couldn't feel the heat of what looked to be noontime sun.

"You have to know the person to judge the price," Haruka said.

"But these customers… they'll be complete strangers," Watanuki protested.

"You'll find a way. Find your own way."

"How did… she know?"

Haruka laughed. "I don't know."

The wood floor of the porch was warm now, and Watanuki knew he'd woken up before getting any answers.

Why did he never get any answers?

That bang in the back of his head.

He hoped it was Doumeki.

He wanted it to be nobody.

He wished it was Yuuko.

He knew it wasn't.

The visitor was in fact a customer, a little boy who wanted something to give his mother for her birthday. He only had 800 yen in his pocket, and couldn't find anything. What he wanted most was flowers, he said, as they were easy to lay on a gravesite.

Watanuki led him outside to the garden (no longer limping - his foot was almost healed, which he was grateful for, and he was still waiting to see about scarring), and let him take his pick of the flowers. When he'd gathered an armful, Watanuki found a ribbon in the storeroom to tie them together.

It was a beautiful bouquet, and Watanuki was sure the child's mother would love it.

The little boy handed him his 800 yen, but Watanuki didn't want it. A child just wanted flowers for his dead mother and Watanuki was just going to take his 800 yen? Why couldn't he just do a good deed?

But he was tied to the shop, and the shop demanded balance.

He weighed out the options - a definite injury equivalent to the price of the flowers and ribbon, or a _possible_ injury equivalent to the _possible deficit_.

The little boy held out the money, all in 100 yen coins.

Watanuki hesitated.

"You know what? You cut those flowers yourself," Watanuki said, anticipating what would come when the little boy left. "You can keep them. But I'll take one of your coins for the ribbon, and to remember your visit. Is that alright?"

The boy nodded, and Watanuki took one of the coins from the boy's hand.

He led the boy to the gate and told him to stay closer to his father so he didn't get lost again. The boy asked if Watanuki would come, saying his mother would like him, but Watanuki couldn't go. Couldn't leave that gate. It was so close, the outside, but he couldn't.

His price.

His decision.

The boy ran off, holding the flowers close, and Watanuki sat down at the gate. He felt a jolt of pain on his hand, and looked down to see a small bruise forming. Much better than a gash in the bottom of his foot, or the other small cuts he'd gotten from a couple other wishes he'd granted (somehow). The price was closer to even, not that that helped any future wishes.

Watanuki reached his hand towards the gate, and stopped short. What would happen if he tried to leave? What would happen if he stuck his hand through the space in the fence. Would he make it through? Would it invalidate his price? Would everything go back to normal? Or would it take more from him for breaking the contract? What was "it" anyways? The shop? The universe?

Curiosity got the better of him, and he tried to put his hand through the gate.

He couldn't see it as it passed the threshold.

Panicked, he pulled his hand back to him and inspected it, not sure if it would be there or not.

It was. But for a moment, a split-second… It had stopped existing.

If Watanuki left this shop…

He wouldn't exist anymore. He would just… stop.

Although he could see the outside, he couldn't… Wouldn't be able to…

Until Yuuko came back. When, when Yuuko came back, he would run errands for her and live in his own apartment again and he would, maybe he would go back to school and everything!

Watanuki sat on the path and looked through the gate. At the city. At the people passing by who saw this place as an empty lot and couldn't see Watanuki.

Which didn't matter. To them, Watanuki didn't exist.

He wasn't part of that world anymore anyways. Was he ever, really? His whole life, what he could remember, he'd been far closer to, to spirits than to any humans. And that was what he was now, in the eyes of humans. A spirit. A stranger who granted wishes (poorly) in a shop only seen by few. A fairy tale.

He sat, cross-legged, staring out the gate, until afternoon became evening and suddenly Doumeki was there, just on the other side of the gate. Where Watanuki didn't exist.

_I'm not real_ , he wanted to say, and wanted to hear Doumeki deny it. He wanted to hear Doumeki tell him he was wrong, and he was real.

No, he wanted Yuuko to tell him. He wanted Yuuko to tell him everything would be alright. She always had before, that's, that's what she was supposed to do. She was, she was everything. This shop was everything. He couldn't even remember his parents, it was just Yuuko, and she left.

And Doumeki, Doumeki wasn't going to do anything. He wasn't going to offer advice, or tell him what he should be doing, or comfort him the way Yuuko did. With soft words and kind expressions and tight hugs.

Himawari might have done something, but she couldn't come to the shop. Yuuko had told her not to, Watanuki would uphold it, though he wished desperately that he didn't have to. Maybe he would call her. Maybe she could sit outside the gate and they could talk. Could she see the shop still? Would she… Would she even be able to see Watanuki?

Watanuki looked up at Doumeki, and realized there were tears in his eyes. But they hadn't fallen yet, so he wiped them away quickly under his glasses before they made it down his cheeks.

Doumeki looked down at him, and Watanuki couldn't read his expression.

"What are you doing?"

What, indeed.

Watanuki stood up, using the fence to balance, and acted out his charade. Played the part. Did what he was supposed to. Posed with his head tilted up condescendingly. Smirked and blinked slowly. Waited for Doumeki to react. To see right through it.

"Thinking," Watanuki told him honestly. He wanted to talk, wanted to say something, but didn't want to talk, didn't want to say anything. "It's a lovely day outside." He wanted someone to reassure him, but didn't want to ask for reassurance. _Keep the conversation light, keep it light_.

Doumeki came through the gate, and Watanuki felt the bang at the back of his head as he came through the barrier. He turned to look at the street, probably wondering what Watanuki had been staring at. Apparently he found nothing (there was something, there was everything, there was nothing, not without Yuuko), so he turned back to Watanuki and held up the bag.

"Come inside to eat."

Watanuki hummed and pouted at the bag.

Doumeki had apparently given up on Watanuki cooking anytime soon, as he continued to bring takeout for him and the others. Mokona made an appearance occasionally, he found, though usually to greet Doumeki and request that they drink together. Last time he stopped by, Doumeki took him up on the offer.

Why did Doumeki keep checking up on him? He was in his last year of school (would Watanuki be in his last year of school too? He didn't know, couldn't remember), and surely he had entrance exams to study for and other obligations. And yet, here he was, checking on Watanuki as obsessively as ever.

But it made Maru and Moro and Mokona happy to see him, so Watanuki shouldn't complain so much. But he did. He did complain. He didn't want to see him stand there. Watanuki wasn't hungry. He was nauseous, sick to his stomach, didn't want to deal with this. Deal with anything, really.

He was fine with waiting, he really was. He could wait. He could wait as long as he had to, he _would_ wait as long as he had to, but _god_ , this wasn't what he thought at all…

"No," Watanuki said. "The porch." That was where he'd left the pipe and its stand and an unopened bottle of good sake he was planning on drinking before the little boy came. Doumeki would appreciate the sake, and maybe if he drank he might either shut up and go away, or stay and say something, because shutting up and staying was obnoxious (it hurt).

Doumeki looked him over, then shrugged and led the way along the path around the shop to the backyard.

Watanuki laid back on the porch and opened the bottle of sake as Doumeki took the food out of the bag.

The smell of it made him nauseous, and he resolved to only pick at it (if he bothered with it at all) and insist that Doumeki never go to this restaurant again. Not that he had any control over that, Doumeki would bring back what he brought back and Watanuki would either eat it or throw it out, it was as simple as that.

The kitchen had fallen into disuse, and it was a shame, but Watanuki didn't have the energy to cook. He'd probably fall asleep with a burner on and the shop would burn down and only Doumeki would find out.

He poured a cup of sake for Doumeki, then set the bottle aside for Doumeki to fill his own cup.

Instead, Doumeki pushed the container of food into his hands.

"Food first," he said.

Watanuki looked down at his empty cup and scowled.

"And since when are you in the habit of denying me a drink?" he asked, taking the container of ramen, opening it, and scowling at that as well.

"I'm eating too," Doumeki replied, then took a bite of the ramen. He looked about as happy to eat is as Watanuki was, and Watanuki wondered what was the point of them both eating something they don't like.

"I don't want this," Watanuki said, and he didn't know if he was talking about the food, his price, Doumeki, or something else entirely.

He knew what he wanted (he didn't know at all) and what he wanted was Yuuko, but she wasn't here and he was, so he set aside the ramen, took Doumeki's cup, and drank the sake. She never let Watanuki get in the way of a drink, he wasn't about to let Doumeki succeed in that.

Doumeki was quiet a moment, and looked down at his noodles.

"Neither do I," he said finally.

Watanuki widened his eyes for a moment, but put a mask back on, this one condescending. He'd won this argument. If you could consider something like this an argument. It wasn't, really, compared to their old standard.

"Good," he said. "We agree on something." So he poured another cup of sake and handed it to Doumeki, but Doumeki didn't take it.

Maybe he hadn't won.

"You never turned down drinks before," Watanuki said.

He'd had Doumeki responding less than a minute ago, and now that he offered him sake - high-quality too - he was silent. Silent. Not even looking. Not looking at all even though Watanuki was right there _right there_ right in front of him, like he was in front of the people on the streets.

Is that how this would end? Would Doumeki give up on him one day and just never come back? Become one of those people in the streets? Forget Watanuki? Would he stumble in one day far in the future as a customer? Or would Watanuki never see him again? Did he want that? Did he want _this_?

Doumeki set down his chopsticks and took a breath. He looked angry and Watanuki was interested to see what he would do.

"I don't want to drink."

"Mm. I don't believe that," Watanuki said. It was the most he'd gotten out of the guy since everything and he wasn't about to stop. Wasn't about to stop this interaction, this conversation, as stupid as it was. He hadn't, hadn't talked to anyone but a few customer and the girls and sometimes Mokona and, god, he needed this. No, he didn't really need this he was fine.

Watanuki finished his cup, set it aside, and lit Yuuko's pipe. The burn wasn't so bad, and it almost felt good in his lungs. Put something in there that wasn't heartache.

He drew in a long breath, then blew the smoke out in Doumeki's direction.

"Fine," Doumeki said, but continued eating. "You should eat too."

Watanuki grinned at the response. It really was an actual conversation. Kind of.

No, he wasn't going to eat the food, but he would play with this a little bit. Something to get his mind off everything, or maybe get his mind _on_ something. He didn't know which, didn't care.

He twisted himself around so he was laying on his stomach, and crossed his bare feet in the air.

"I don't want ramen," he said, breathing out another trail of smoke and watching it dance in front of him. "I want… inarizushi," he decided. Why not? It was Doumeki's favorite and wouldn't it be fun to turn that back on him?

"You don't have any of that."

Watanuki frowned and stared at his untouched ramen next to him. _That never stopped you from requesting things_.

"That's true," he said, and almost told Doumeki to go grocery shopping.

But then he'd have groceries and Doumeki would expect him to cook and make bentos, probably. Looking at the guy though, he could probably use a few bentos.

"Next time you come, bring that," he said, then took another long inhale from the pipe, and rest his head on his bruised hand, which was a mistake so he sat up, cross-legged under his - Yuuko's - silk, then grabbed Doumeki's other cup of sake. If he wasn't drinking it, Watanuki would.

But Doumeki took it from his hand and drank it himself. Watanuki frowned, but part of him was elated (he wasn't elated, Doumeki was being a jerk, no he was happy, was he happy? no.). It was just how it was before. Doumeki stealing food and Watanuki getting upset.

Except now it was alcohol, not food - it would have never been alcohol before, Watanuki rarely drank, never drank, he had no tolerance for it - he did now.

Another deep breath from the pipe, and then he leaned back and looked at the sunset.

And then Doumeki stopped, just put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. Maybe Watanuki should have said something to keep it going, but the moment was passed and and maybe it could happen again, but not tonight.

He put the pipe aside and refilled Doumeki's cup, then held his own empty one out to be filled, which it was this time. They were quiet a moment, both drinking.

"How long has it been?" he asked suddenly, not sure why he was asking, it didn't matter, but still. Still, he'd like to know. It felt like forever and no time at all.

Doumeki apparently had to think about the question.

"Mm… a few weeks, I think. Maybe more."

"You think?" Watanuki asked. "Don't you go to school?"

"I don't remember the date."

"Neither do I," Watanuki said after finishing off his cup. Leading up to everything… At the time he could barely tell when he was awake or dreaming or how fast time was passing or anything like that, and now he didn't know how long he spent awake asleep awake asleep awake dreaming dazed asleep and thinking about it he was tired again.

"Maybe I should get a calendar." He laid back on the porch and closed his eyes, not sure if he would sleep or just lay there.

But apparently he slept because then it was morning and Doumeki was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently I decided to keep going with this oops have fun.


	3. Chapter 3

Some days were worse than others, when it came to missing Yuuko. Some days he spent in a haze. Waiting was easier when you weren’t really there. But dreamless sleep was sometimes hard to come by, so he found other ways.

Maru and Moro and Mokona and Doumeki gave him looks. Looks of concern. Sometimes Doumeki even looked angry, though it was hard to tell with that guy.

Didn’t matter what Doumeki thought. What Doumeki did or didn’t approve of. 

Yuuko wasn’t here. Wouldn’t be for a long time, he knew. He knew. He wished it wasn’t so long, so long, but he chose this he chose this he had to remind himself that he chose this he would wait

Wait

Wait

Waiting.

There was a hole, a hole, and he was waiting for it to be filled, he wanted it filled, Yuuko could fill it, she was what was missing

Missing

pieces.

All he wanted was-

“What happened to him?” he heard suddenly, and he was pulled out of his thoughts, but not out of his daze.

“He isn’t feeling well,” Maru said timidly.

“Not feeling well,” agreed Moro.

“A wish?”

Was it a wish? Was that why he was laying here?

Watanuki stirred, and found he was laying across the couch and his hand was dangling off the side, so he pulled it up and knocked over some empty sake bottles.

Ah. That’s why he was laying here.

It wasn’t like that every day. No, he had good days too, more and more frequently. When wishes were granted correctly (well, close to it) and Doumeki brought decent food and the girls played in the yard and giggled when Watanuki threatened to take away Mokona’s alcohol and Watanuki smiled at it all.

But there was always that undercurrent there. Constant reminders of Yuuko, all over the shop. The shop itself. But Watanuki wanted it that way. This was Yuuko’s shop, after all. He was just a caretaker, and a terrible one too.

But Haruka was helping him. Taught him to listen to himself, listen to instinct, and listen to the shop. He learned magic that way, and could do a few simple things, but not much for now. Enough to grant some wishes, but he would never be as good as Yuuko. These were Yuuko’s customers, he was a replacement. He only ever had one customer of his own - the woman who wanted to cook - but she never came by again. Watanuki wondered what happened.

Either way, everything he’d learned didn’t help much with the prices. He still didn’t have a method, and he desperately, desperately wished Yuuko was here instead. Yuuko knew, Yuuko knew, Yuuko could do this. She could tell him what to do, could do it instead and tell him to do something else. 

It always came back to Yuuko.

He let Maru and Moro comfort him, lay next to him if he slept in his - in Yuuko’s old bed. It was the only bed in the shop, but it did help to be close to her (did it?). And he was always close to her. Wearing her clothes, sleeping in her bed, smoking her pipe, helping customers meant for her.

No one ever talked about her though. They always tiptoed around the subject, probably for Watanuki’s sake. He didn’t need to be coddled though. Or maybe he did? God, he didn’t know.

Didn’t matter. It was a good day. The sun was out and it was warm, but with a nice breeze to keep it from getting too hot. Maru and Moro were playing ring around the rosy and Mokona was jumping on their heads. Watanuki was smoking on the porch mending an obi that got ripped (such a shame, Yuuko would be upset) and all in all, it wasn’t that bad.

And then a pressure in the back of his mind - no longer a headache, not lately - and he knew someone had come through the barrier to the shop.

He put the pipe back in his mouth, stood and stretched, and tied the fixed obi (poorly) around the yukata he wore, ready for whatever request he might be bombarded with, but when he entered the house, he found Doumeki in the kitchen with the usual takeout.

That guy just kept showing up.

But Watanuki was in a good mood. He was. So…

He took the pipe out of his mouth, and crossed his arms in front of his chest, then frowned - almost like old times, but it was more of a pout instead of his old scowl.

“Doumeki.”

Doumeki raised an eyebrow as he put the bag on the kitchen table.

“Watanuki,” he said. “I brought sushi.”

“You never listen to my requests,” Watanuki whined before putting the pipe back in his mouth as he made his way to the table to search the bags. Though sushi sounded better than what he requested last night which was… eh, he didn’t remember, rarely did. Sushi sounded good. Looked good too - where did he go for this?

“I don’t recognize the restaurant, is it new?” he mumbled through the pipe, pulling out the boxes.

Doumeki sat down at the counter.

“Mm,” he agreed, using about as many words as he ever did. “I’m told it’s very good.”

Watanuki pulled the pipe out of his mouth and set it aside as he opened the boxes and set them on the table.

“By whom? Why should I trust their opinion, hm?” he complained. “Ah. I’ve made better sushi than this.” He hadn’t. “This looks all wrong.” It didn’t. “Honestly, it’s like you don’t know anything - grab some chopsticks.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of wherever Doumeki put the chopsticks.

Doumeki handed him some of those pull-apart wooden chopsticks, but didn’t say anything.

Why did that bother him so much now?

But he was chewing loudly and that irked him like it hadn’t in a while.

“Don’t munch like that! It’s rude,” Watanuki said after swallowing a mouthful of (amazing) food, and it felt for a moment like old times, before everything.

Doumeki continued to not talk, but he used his grubby hands to steal a sushi off the tray next to Watanuki, even though there was an identical one on the tray closer to him - what an ass.

Watanuki scowled at him - an actual scowl, and god, did it feel good - and pulled the tray closer.

“Don’t just grab whatever you want! Where did you learn table manners…” 

And then there was that pressure in his head and he knew someone was coming but Doumeki was already here, so it must have been a customer.

“Don’t throw all that sushi in your bottomless void; I’ll be right back and I actually do want dinner today,” he said, putting down his chopsticks and picking up the pipe again.

Watanuki put a face on. The usual face - Yuuko’s persona. He put on a soft smirk, something that on Yuuko looked mysterious and sensual, but on him probably looked ridiculous. He’d try though. This was his job. He was the (temporary) owner of a wish-granting shop, it wouldn’t do well to look or act anything less than the part.

He moved lazily, but inside, he was all nerves. He had no idea what this wish would be, or if he could grant it, or at what price. Didn’t know, didn’t know, and Doumeki was following him out of the kitchen - Doumeki would be watching, would see.

Would be there if he screwed up.

The thought was both comforting and incredibly terrifying at the same time.

He was about to turn around to tell Doumeki to stay in the kitchen, don’t come out, but they were already at the front, and a young man, maybe college-aged, was standing in the front, closely inspecting a framed painting on the wall.

“Hello,” Watanuki said, speaking soft and low.

The man startled, and jumped. “Oh, god!” he yelled.

Watanuki couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“I am so sorry, I was walking along and-”

“Your feet carried you in on their own?” Watanuki finished.

“Yeah! I- Wait. Does this happen often?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, alright, so me just stopping in here isn’t that weird. Feeling a little bit better about the whole… thing, so I’m just going to go now…”

And Watanuki was tempted to let him leave. Let him just go and then Watanuki wouldn’t have to grant his wish and he could just eat sushi and pester Doumeki because dammit this was a good day.

But he was the shopkeeper for now, and he couldn’t turn down a customer.

He took a breath, and spoke.

“You have a wish though, don’t you?”

The man had been headed out, but stopped short.

“Or else you wouldn’t be here.”

“That’s kinda funny, I really was just thinking about something I guess you could call a wish… What a coincidence…”

“Well now, there isn’t such a thing as coincidence,” Watanuki said, then grinned. “Only hitsuzen.”

“Ah.” He looked a little disconcerted, so Watanuki explained.

“It was inevitable that you came to my shop today. I can help you with that wish.” _I hope. I hope I can help, I should be able to help, Yuuko could help better, Doumeki is watching._

“So, what, you grant wishes?” the man asked.

“Why don’t we sit down?” asked Watanuki, gesturing to the sitting room.

“So you do grant wishes.”

Watanuki frowned. “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I-” He paused. “Magic.”

Who was this guy, and why was he pissing him off so much? Maybe that good mood had put him off his act.

“Magic?”

“Yes. You have a wish, I can grant it, if you pay an equal price.”

“It’s one of those deals then?”

“It generally is.”

The man seemed to consider the whole thing.

“Your art’s all authentic,” he said suddenly.

“What? Of course it is. It was-” _It was Yuuko-san’s._

“Someone with art this fine… I don’t think you’d lie about this…” he trailed off.

Watanuki was a little confused, but went with it.

The man blinked and pointed at the other room. “So, that room, yeah?”

Watanuki nodded, and turned to Doumeki, waving for him to get out.

Doumeki followed them into the room, ignoring Watanuki’s unspoken instructions. Watanuki wasn’t sure whether to be upset, or glad. Or upset that he was glad. He settled on that.

“So you said you had a wish,” Watanuki said once they were seated (with Doumeki standing to the side and being an intrusion).

“Okay. Yeah. I do. Well, I guess it’s a wish.”

Watanuki took a breath from the pipe and waited for the guy to say what he needed. Not one of his strong-suits in the past, to be sure, but it came with the territory.

“So, I’ve got a girlfriend, yeah? And… she’s going on this study abroad. To London. For a while. Like, two semesters. I didn’t get the scholarship to afford it without my parents’ help, but they cut me off, saying I didn’t want to go for studies - which I did!”

Did the guy expect Watanuki to finance his trip to London? Does that constitute a wish? How would he do that? Just give him something expensive to sell? He liked the art, maybe - no that was Yuuko’s art there was no way he could ever. There must be something else to-

“But that doesn’t really matter now. I just… I just want her to be safe, you know? I love her, and I don’t want her to get hurt and sometimes she’s a little reckless and naïve, so, I don’t know, all the good luck she can get.” The man rubbed the back of his head and smiled.

Watanuki thought it over, breathing in more smoke, enjoying the burn that used to send him into coughs, and then blowing it out to the side.

That sounded much more like the sort of wishes people came to the shop for. Good luck. Fortunes. Magic. Abstract wishes that you can’t just buy.

But how would he grant this one? Good luck for his girlfriend?

“So you wish for your girlfriend to have good fortune on her trip?”

The man nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Yeah, I do. I mean, it sounds a little stupid, a little sappy… But that’d be great. I’m not sure I’m 100% on the whole magic thing though…?”

Watanuki frowned. “You don’t believe I can do this?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you don’t believe, and, honestly, if there was going to be magic… it’d be in this place.”

“So then, you must decide,” Watanuki began, leaning back in the chair and crossing his legs. “Do you have a wish to make, or no?” He already knew the answer though. The man wouldn’t have been able to come into the shop if he wasn’t going to make this wish. In fact, Watanuki wasn’t sure the man was anywhere near as skeptical as his talk suggested.

“Alright, sure, yeah. I just want her to be okay.”

His heart sped up in anticipation for the wish. He’d heard it, felt it, and now he had to grant it.

How?

“Then I will grant your wish,” he said, still unsure, so unsure, what was he going to do how would he do this.

Watanuki looked at the man, really looked at him. Tried to see something, anything. There was something at the edge of his vision, but every time he tried to focus on it, it slipped away.

So he’d have to be creative.

Good luck, he’d said. Good luck. There was no such thing as luck, just inevitability, hitsuzen, fate. But fate and fortune were two separate things. Intertwined, yes, but… different. Everyone had fortune, good or bad, some had more of one or the other, and maybe…

“Your… good fortune,” Watanuki said slowly.

“My good fortune?”

“Yes.” This was starting to make sense the more he thought about it. “Yes, I can transfer your good fortune to her. The price grants the wish. It’s equal.” Oh god, he hoped it was equal. Either way though, that’s what he came up with, that’s what he would tell the customer.

“So what, I’ll be unlucky?”

“You could look at it that way.” Could he? “Wait- wait here. I need to get something from the back.”

What he needed from the back, he had no idea, but apparently he did, so he stood up and left the room, grabbing another piece of sushi as he went through the kitchen. It really was very good, just like Doumeki said. But… he could do better. Maybe he would, sometime. He’d have to clean first. He didn’t want to clean right now.

In the storeroom he found a bracelet. That girl’s bracelet from his first wish as shopkeeper. The one that wasn’t enough and slashed his foot. He couldn’t remember her name, but he certainly remembered the price.

He picked it up twirled ti around in his hand, warming it up and a thought struck him. Whether or not he could do it… He could do it. He wouldn’t have thought of it if he couldn’t do it.

So he hurried back out to the front room, but slowed to a walk before he entered, not wanting to ruin the act more than he already had.

The man was inspecting the table when he returned, and Doumeki was still standing near the wall, wearing some sort of expression that Watanuki didn’t care to interpret right now (wanted to though, he wanted to be able to read him).

Watanuki sat back down and put the bracelet on the table.

“A bracelet?”

“Wear it for twenty-four hours, then give it to her,” Watanuki said, suddenly very sure of himself, but completely unsure as to why. “It will take in your good fortune, and transfer it to the wearer.”

“How?” the man asked.

Watanuki smirked and looked at him through lidded eyes.

“Magic.”

“Fair enough. I’ll do that.”

They both stood, and the man bowed, so Watanuki bowed back.

“Thanks for this. I… I have a feeling it’ll work,” he said, putting the bracelet on.

“I do too,” Watanuki agreed, and he almost sent him away before he realized that he’d have to take more for the bracelet. “Oh, wait, the price for the bracelet…”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right, what do you need for that?”

Watanuki thought it over. That bracelet hadn’t meant much to the original owner, and didn’t mean much to him, aside from a reminder to keep the transactions balanced. He shouldn’t need to charge much for it, as it really was just a convenient vessel for the wish.

“Where did you get your necklace?”

“Old souvenir,” the man said, looking down at it. “Accidentally bought two, actually, just different colors. I like this one better though. Is that the price?”

“I…” A necklace he cares about, but not that much… “Yes. Your fortune for hers, and your necklace for the bracelet.”

The man shrugged, and pulled the necklace off over his head. “Sure thing.”

Watanuki took the necklace and Maru and Moro saw the man out.

The moment he was left alone (not alone, Doumeki was still right there, almost forgot, he watched the whole thing, what did he think, what did he think, was he disgusted again? impressed?), Watanuki looked down at his hands, his arms, his legs, his feet, and he waited. Waited for the inevitable wound from the universe because he was still terrible at this and sure it might not be that bad this time but every scratch, every bruise was a reminder of how awful he was at this job and Yuuko needed to come back soon and even if he never seemed to scar, it was still, was still…

Nothing. Nothing happened.

He looked up to Doumeki - did the price bounce onto him? was that possible? - but he didn’t look injured. In fact, he looked… not happy, but satisfied with the moment.

“It was even,” Watanuki said, holding out his hands and arms to show Doumeki. “It was even and that sushi was good so I’ll be eating the rest of it.”

He turned back to the kitchen with a flourish.


	4. Chapter 4

Watanuki woke up to the sound of rain, and a headache, so he went outside for no other reason than it seemed like the thing to do. It took effort to stand up - he was tired, but not groggy, which was an improvement - and when he slid the doors to the porch open, he found that the Ame-warashi was standing in the backyard.

“Oh,” he said, and she frowned.

“What do you mean ‘oh,’ that’s no way to treat a guest, Watanuki Kimihiro!” she yelled, stamping her umbrella on the ground in front of her.

“Ah, it’s just, I wasn’t expecting…”

But at least it wasn’t a customer; thank god it wasn’t a customer, he didn’t want to deal with that.

“The Zashiki-warashi told me to send my regards,” she said, turning her nose up.

“Oh!” Watanuki smiled. “How is she?”

“Better than you, Shopkeeper.” She took in a breath and sighed. “She wanted to see you herself, but you know how it is for her down here. It’s bad enough for me, she wouldn’t last long at all. Especially since you took her Tengu Guardians’ fan.” The Ame-warashi narrowed her eyes at him.

“I didn’t…”

“Yes, yes, Yuuko-san did. You’re the Shopkeeper now. It’s in your possession.”

“That’s not…” He crossed his arms and frowned. “I am.”

“Whatever. I’ve stopped by and made sure you’re alright. Aside from that.” She pointed at his bandaged hand with her umbrella. “She’ll probably cry about it, you know.”

“Don’t tell her then,” he said, not wanting to worry anyone. He was fine, really.

“She would want to know. You screwed up a wish, didn’t you?”

He cringed, looking down at his hand, and remembering all the other little injuries he’d gotten since filling in as shopkeeper.

“Idiot,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re just as stupid as you were before.”

Watanuki laughed once. “I know. But you’re not here to insult me, I presume,” he said, now getting the feeling that maybe he _did_ have a customer.

The Ame-warashi smirked, and slung her umbrella over her shoulder.

“That’s right, Shopkeeper. I have a wish for you.”

“Then by all means,” Watanuki returned, bowing slightly and gesturing for her to come in.

She nodded, and followed him into the shop, where he put on a pot of tea.

“I’m going to make this quick, Watanuki Kimihiro,” she said, standing in the kitchen with her arms across her chest.

“Generally, I do my work out there,” Watanuki said, waving his hand in the direction of the sitting room.

“Cut the ceremony. I know you. I’m not interested in your act, I just have a wish.”

Watanuki froze for a moment.

“And where are the snacks, hm?”

“Ah…”

Watanuki turned away from the stove to face the Ame-warashi, who was frowning and had an eyebrow raised at him.

“Not that I’m demanding food. I don’t want your food. It just seems weird that you wouldn’t have food.”

Watanuki didn’t respond, turning back to the teapot.

“And look at these takeout boxes - you’re barely taking care of yourself. It’s pathetic.”

God, it was, wasn’t it?

“You’re not even cooking, are you?”

Watanuki shook his head, and turned back to the Ame-warashi with a smile.

“I suppose not,” he said simply.

“Hmph. Pathetic. She’ll be so upset about this. Everyone must be upset about this.”

A pang went through Watanuki’s chest, though he couldn’t explain why. Shame? Guilt? Maybe just annoyance at her pointing out every single flaw he was already acutely aware of.

“Well. Watanuki Kimihiro, I have a wish.”

“So you said. Do keep in mind, however, that I am unable to leave this place.”

She had a strange look on her face.

“So formal.”

“This is formal business, is it not?”

“Yes. It is.”

“So then. What is your wish?”

-

“The Ame-warashi came by today,” Watanuki said over dinner with Doumeki that night.

“Oh?”

Watanuki nodded. “She has a wish. Well, she came to me with another spirit’s wish.”

Doumeki didn’t say anything, so Watanuki continued.

“I can’t grant it. Even if I could, I’d have to leave the shop and if I leave…”

Doumeki nodded.

“Could you do something for me?” Watanuki asked. “I’ll compensate you accordingly. I just… need you to retrieve something.”

Doumeki raised an eyebrow. “Retrieve what?”

Watanuki laid back on the floor sighed heavily.

“I don’t know,” he admitted “I’d know it if I saw it, I’m sure, but I can’t see it because I can’t go.” He put a hand over his right eye and groaned. “This eye doesn’t go both ways, it seems. I could use something to _talk_ with you, but I truly do need to _see_ it…”

“Where am I going?”

Watanuki sat up and looked at Doumeki again. He agreed so quickly.

“Ah. She gave me a location,” Watanuki said, pushing the paper with the address across the table to Doumeki. “But… god, I’ll send you out there, you won’t see anything, you’ll have to just - you know, I don’t even know where this is.” He pouted at the whole situation.

“It’s a temple.”

“Yours?”

Doumeki shook his head.

Watanuki leaned against the table and put his chin in hand. “Mm. Of course, you probably would have noticed if something was amiss there.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday. I’ll stop by,” Doumeki said through a bite of his food.

Watanuki thought about it, and shook his head, taking the paper back from Doumeki. “No. No, not yet. And chew your damn food.”

-

That night, Watanuki found himself on the porch with Haruka. It was snowing and lovely and his bare feet should have frozen in the cold, but there was no cold.

“You seem troubled, Watanuki-kun,” Haruka said to him, smiling slightly in a way Doumeki never did. “They say your face will stick like that, and what a shame that would be.”

Watanuki smiled back at Haruka, slightly embarrassed.

“Why do you look so upset?”

“I have a wish to grant.”

“I see.”

“I need to leave the shop for it, but…”

Haruka took a long breath from his cigarette and let it out slowly, looking out at the yard.

“Apparently, I can’t even leave this shop in my dreams,” Watanuki continued, and laughed once.

“And why not?” Haruka asked.

Watanuki turned to Haruka abruptly, confused.

“Your body isn’t in dreams, Watanuki-kun. I’m willing to bet you can leave the shop here.” He smiled brightly, and leaned forward, putting his chin in his hands. “Ah, put a smile on. It suits you better.”

-

He woke early in the morning, Maru and Moro on either side of him in the bed, and rubbed his eyes, struck with an idea.

The idea, however, required him to be asleep, but for once he wasn’t tired, so he got up and considered making breakfast, but decided against it. Cleaning seemed the better option.

So he found his gloves and his headscarf and cleaned the kitchen, letting his thoughts wander.

Watanuki could leave the shop. Not for real, of course, but… Real enough. He’d done it before. He’d just have to figure out how to do it himself. Dreaming he could do, but directing those dreams…

That would be the difficult part. He’d never tried to control his dreaming before, but something told him he would be able to do this without too much trouble. Especially if he had some sort of anchor point to wherever he was trying to go. Over time he could develop the skill, but to start with, a tether would be nice.

Ahhh, and he had one. He was planning on sending Doumeki anyways - he was the only person he could really go to at this point, this was usually Watanuki’s job before - so he could just follow Doumeki. That could work. That could actually-

When did he run out of dish soap? He had just bought-

No, no, oh god, that was months ago. He hadn’t gone shopping in months. And Doumeki didn’t bring back more than the essentials. Dammit, he was out of dish soap. And probably a thousand other things, but he wasn’t concerned about that right now. Just the soap.

With a huff, Watanuki gave up on the rest of the dishes, leaving them to soak in the sink and waited for Doumeki to come by. He had said it was Sunday today, so he would probably be over earlier.

It was afternoon and the kitchen was clean (aside from dishes in the sink) and Watanuki was dusting the living room when his head hurt and he snapped to awareness.

He figured it was probably Doumeki, so he didn’t bother changing, turning back to his dusting.

“Welcome home!” came the three-part chorus from the entry.

“I don’t live here,” was Doumeki’s predictable reply, and Watanuki listened as his footsteps came closer, then quickly stopped as he entered the room.

“You’re cleaning,” he said.

“It was dusty,” Watanuki explained, turning around and peeling his gloves off.

Doumeki’s face was nearly impassive, but there was some sort of emotion there that Watanuki couldn’t read.

He’d have to work on that because it was damn annoying, dealing with an expressionless, un-reacting individual on an almost daily basis.

“I have an idea,” Watanuki announced as he tossed his gloves onto the table next to him. “On how to grant that wish.”

-

Doumeki couldn’t see him, but Watanuki was there, following after Doumeki as he made his way to the temple the Ame-warashi had directed them to. He’d given Doumeki direction on what to tell them and what to look for, just in case he saw anything, then sent him on his way.

Watanuki had also insisted that the kudakitsune join Doumeki, and it seemed it, at least, could see Watanuki. It was wrapped around Doumeki’s neck, staring right at Watanuki with a tilted head.

“Oi,” Doumeki said to no one in particular, which meant he probably said it to Watanuki. “This is the temple.”

And it certainly was the temple. Even from the sidewalk, and through a dream, Watanuki could feel the aura of whatever it was they were here to purify. The kudakitsune was alert, and Watanuki could almost hear it growling at whatever was there.

Doumeki, however, was unaffected, and just walked forward to enter the temple grounds.

Hesitantly, Watanuki followed after.

Someone came out to greet them, bowing her head slightly.

“Welcome. Are you the one sent to help us?” she asked.

Doumeki raised an eyebrow. “I heard you need something purified,” he said simply, following exactly what Watanuki had told him to say.

“Yes, yes that’s right.”

“Do you know what it is?” Doumeki asked. A long shot, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

The woman shook her head. “No. We can feel that something is tainted, but we can’t figure out what it is.”

Watanuki was having a hard time pinning it down as well. There was _something_ though. Something…

In the far building.

Watanuki split off from the group to investigate the building, which did appear to be the source of the feeling, as it only got worse as he approached.

The door was locked, but that didn’t matter. Watanuki wasn’t really there anyways, so he just moved himself into the room, which was too dark to see in. It proved not to be an issue, however, as the door opened a moment later to reveal Doumeki, with the kudakitsune still around his neck.

“Ah, did you direct him over here?” Watanuki asked, and the kudakitsune nodded.

Watanuki smiled, glad he’d thought to send it along with Doumeki. The original plan had been to just wake up when he found the item, confer with Doumeki over the phone somewhere, and then… God, whatever, that plan had been stupid. This was much better.

“Thank you, Mugetsu,” Watanuki said, reaching to pat it on the head, but his hand passed through and he frowned. “When you’re back home then.”

“Do you think the source is in here?” that woman asked from outside the building.

“Maybe,” Doumeki said, looking around, and Watanuki followed suit, trying to find whatever the hell it was they were looking for.

The building was small, cramped, and based on the assortment of items, probably used for storage. It reminded Watanuki of a smaller version of the back rooms of his - of Yuuko’s shop, but far less organized and much dustier.

Then again, he’d let the storerooms get rather dusty lately. Maybe he should fix that.

Not the point.

Watanuki closed his eyes and took a breath, waiting for something.

Ah, he was always waiting, may as well do something for once.

So he started searching the room. Multiple shelves full of books and knick-knacks, trunks he couldn’t open, paper spells on the walls, and -

Wait.

Watanuki motioned for the kudakitsune to direct Doumeki to a large trunk, covered in a stack of books and a thick layer of dust. 

Doumeki followed the kudakitsune’s pull, and the woman from earlier followed him.

“Is there anything in this trunk?” he asked the woman, and she shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

Doumeki picked up the stack of books, coughing at the dust, and made a move to open the trunk.

Which suddenly seemed like a terrible idea, so Watanuki reached out to stop him, but his hand passed right through again.

The kudakitsune was on top of it though, wrapping itself around Doumeki’s arm and pulling back, shaking its head.

Doumeki pulled away, and knelt down in front of the trunk.

“He needs to bring it back to me,” Watanuki told the kudakitsune, which nodded.

And then his vision went fuzzy for a moment, and he looked down at his hands and found they were disappearing before his eyes.

This should have worked. This should have _worked_ , why was he disappearing? He couldn’t just-

He woke in his - in Yuuko’s - in his bed, and checked to be sure he was still there and he was and-

Watanuki laughed once. He’d probably just woken up. Obviously he needed a bit of practice, but he was sure he’d get better at it.

Mokona was waiting by his bed, a look of concern on his face.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and Watanuki smiled, patting him on the head.

“It worked,” he said, actually… excited, oddly enough. He hadn’t felt excited since…

It had been a while.

But that wasn’t important.

“I’m putting some tea on. Doumeki should be back soon,” Watanuki said then.

Mokona hopped on his shoulder as he exited, for the first time since… everything. In fact, he hadn’t seen Mokona around much. From time to time for a cup (usually more) of sake, but that was about it.

“Oi, where have you been?” Watanuki asked, frowning at the little… thing.

Mokona didn’t answer, but Watanuki felt he knew. He was much closer to Yuuko than he was to Watanuki.

So Watanuki picked him up by the ears and played the part. Not Yuuko’s part. He couldn’t play Yuuko’s part to Mokona.

“Probably off drinking sake,” Watanuki said instead.

“Watanuki got it right!”

Watanuki scowled as Mokona squirmed out of his hands and somehow ended up on top of his head.

Out in the sitting room, he found Maru and Moro playing a game. They looked up with smiles on their faces.

“Is Watanuki alright?”

“Is Watanuki alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Why was everyone so concerned with this? It was a quick nap, honestly.

Doumeki came by not long after, face pale, trunk in tow, and the kudakitsune around his neck.

“Ah, you brought it,” Watanuki said, clapping his hands, and kept his eyes on the trunk as Doumeki set it down in the sitting room he’d just cleaned. Dammit.

It was just as he saw it in his dreams, and just as he felt it as well.

“Oh, this is definitely it,” he said as he knelt down and inspected the trunk. He put a hand over it, but didn’t touch it just yet. “Did you get it back here alright?”

Doumeki nodded. “More or less.”

Watanuki looked up from the trunk to glare at Doumeki. “What do you mean more or less?” he asked.

“I made it back.”

“I need to know specifically, now isn’t the time for your four word answers.”

“Birds flew at me each time I crossed the street.”

“Birds?”

“Three times.”

“Hm. Good it wasn’t four,” Watanuki mused as he sat on the ground and turned back to the trunk to inspect it, scrunching his nose at the smell. “There’s certainly something wrong with it. Go get some sake from the back, I could use a drink.”

Doumeki obliged. So it was one of those days, hm.

While he was off fetching the drinks, the kudakitsune wrapped itself around Watanuki’s neck, and Watanuki patted its head as he sat in front of the trunk, trying to discern what the hell was wrong with the stupid thing.

No, no, getting upset doesn’t help. Clearing his mind and-

Doumeki came back into the room, and Watanuki waved a hand at him to give him the sake, not looking away from the trunk.

“Mm, thank you,” he said, taking the cup from him and drinking half of it before setting it down beside him. “I don’t like it.”

“The sake?” Doumeki asked.

No matter what changed, you really could always count on Doumeki being an asshole.

Watanuki side-eyed Doumeki and kept talking.

“The trunk. Did the temple seem strange to you? Or even the people? I wasn’t there long after you found this.”

Doumeki shook his head. “No, nothing stood out. Except the trunk, obviously.”

“Did it stand out? To you.” He turned back to the trunk and finally put a hand on it, but pulled back abruptly with a start. “You carried this all the way back?”

“Not at first,” he said. “I wouldn’t have noticed it. Once I was touching it, it felt wrong.”

Watanuki looked back to Doumeki, who was already finishing off his drink. His hand was shaking. Odd.

“I want to open it,” he admitted. “But the feeling I’m getting from inside it… It isn’t something I want here in the shop. What do you think?” he asked, truly not sure what he was doing. This was usually when he stood in the back and watched Yuuko know everything as she always did and here was Watanuki knowing literally nothing and-

No, no, thinking like that wasn’t going to help.

Listen to his instincts, listen to the shop, listen to others.

“Open it,” Doumeki said decidedly. “It’s what needs to be done.”

Watanuki took a moment to be confused. Doumeki was so sure of it, but whatever was in the trunk…

“There are two options. I can open this, and let out whatever is in here, and I have a guess, though I’m not certain at all. Or, I can seal it properly. I think I have just the thing.” He paused. “I can’t help but think of Pandora’s Box,” he said then. “You know that one, yes?”

“I think… it’s less a Pandora’s Box, and more a pressure cooker,” Doumeki said. “Even if only for a moment, you should open it.”

“Pressure cooker,” Watanuki repeated, frowning at the trunk. He was right. There was something building in there. The question was whether it was something they wanted to release, or contain. “Hm.” He finished off his sake and stood, pushing up his sleeves. “I’m taking it outside then,” he announced, and grabbed either side of the trunk, trying not to drop it though his hands almost burned.

Doumeki stood as well, and followed him out.

He hefted the trunk to the backyard and sent the kudakitsune, Mokona, and the girls back inside.

“If this explodes in my face, you're to blame,” Watanuki said as he dropped the trunk on the ground and crouched in front of it.

Doumeki crouched down as well, and gave him a look. Just a look. No emotion, no teasing, no concern? Maybe.

“Ready?” Watanuki asked, one hand on the latch and the other on the lid.

Doumeki nodded as he put both hands on the lid as well.

Watanuki opened the latch with a nod, and on the count of three, lifted the lid.

Immediately, there was a horrible stench and an immense pressure in the air. He stumbled back and watched as a cloud of dark smoke threw the lid completely back and shot up into the air.

“Ah. Good call,” Watanuki said truthfully, hand covering his nose and mouth.

The smoke gathered and hung there above the trunk for a moment - too long a moment, it had been so long since Watanuki had encountered anything like that, he’d nearly forgotten - before dissipating completely, some of it returning to the trunk.

Watanuki looked over at Doumeki, who had his hands on his knees, and watched as he released a breath. He must have felt it too.

There was still something in the trunk though, if Watanuki’s hunch was correct, so he crawled over to it and looked inside. Sure enough, there was a small box, wrapped in yellowed paper.

“Ah. Here’s the problem,” he said, pulling the box out, and very much not liking the feeling of touching it. “It’s broken.”

Doumeki leaned in closer to look at the box.

Truly, the box wasn’t in terrible condition, just the bindings.

“It needs new spell paper - you carried this all the way back here?” Watanuki asked, reluctantly impressed.

Doumeki nodded. “You asked me to,” he said flatly, with what might have been a slight frown, Watanuki wasn’t sure.

“Since when do you listen to what I say?” Watanuki asked, closing the trunk and setting the box on top of it.

Doumeki didn’t reply, except a tiny ‘humph’.

Watanuki narrowed his eyes at Doumeki, then turned away. “Either way… thank you.”

There was a long pause, and his words hung in the air for too long a moment before Doumeki finally said, “You’re welcome.”

Watanuki nodded, then took a breath and sighed.

“I’ll get this bound again. Odd they’d have something like this at a temple. They can have their trunk back, of course. Ah, but they may not want it back. Don’t worry about it. I’ll put it away. And, and I’ll have your payment tomorrow - but only if you bring me dish soap!”

-

Watanuki spent the night researching spell papers and practicing his kanji and spell-casting before getting one perfect and wrapping the box up in it. The trunk he dragged to the storeroom, which was dirtier than he’d thought it was.

Ah well.

He could clean later.

The Ame-warashi would be back soon and he would collect payment and she would go back to the Zashiki-warashi and oh! Oh, she was probably so worried…

Watanuki would have to make it up to her. With… something.

Food.

He’d make her something. As an apology. And Mokona could have some. And Doumeki too, if he happens to drop by (he always did, thank god - no, that was annoying - no, it was necessary). Ah, and Watanuki could send some back with Doumeki to give to Himawari and Kohane. He hadn’t seen or talked to them since… oh since he came to the shop. Odd.

So Watanuki spent the last of his sleepless night baking cookies (he didn’t have the ingredients for anything more), feeling the oddest bout of nostalgia for the kitchen. For his old life. For everything he’d lost.

For Yuuko.

He almost expected her to show up at any moment, raving about how delicious his food smelled, or demanding something more extravagant, or… anything. Watanuki would take anything, give anything. Do whatever it took. Was already doing it.

It took everything in him to force himself to finish his baking, and then sat on the floor of the kitchen, allowing himself to cry in a way he hadn’t since everything had happened.

He fell asleep there, on the floor, leaned against the wall, and woke to Maru and Moro picking up his hands.

“Watanuki?” Maru said.

“Are you asleep?” Moro asked.

Watanuki shook his head, then fixed his glasses, hoping his eyes weren’t red.

“I was, but I’m awake now. I was up very late. Maybe I should go to be-” he began, but then felt that pressure at the back of his mind again. Dammit.

So he hurried off the the bedroom to change into a purple furisode with a black obi, tied loosely because he didn’t have time to put it on properly (did he ever bother though? should he?), then ran back out to the backyard to meet with the Ame-warashi.

“Well?” she said as he approached.

“I completed your request,” Watanuki said, holding up the box he’d grabbed on the way out.

“Hm. So that little box was stinking up an entire temple?” she asked, face twisted in disgust.

“Ah. It’s truly what’s inside that tainted the temple grounds.”

“Which is?”

“Emotions,” Watanuki said, stroking a hand on the box that now felt harmless, thanks to his spell paper. “Feelings. Ill-intent. Trapped in some sort of relic. I’m curious to see, but, well, its effects alone were enough for me,” he told her, smiling.

“It looks fine to me,” she said, poking at it with a gloved hand.

“Yes, well, the spells binding the box were far too old, and decayed rather badly. The emotions in the relic stirred up quite some trouble, but it’s fixed now, I assure you.” And, to be honest, he was rather proud of the work he did on it.

“Hmph. Good job then.” She took a breath and rolled her eyes, obviously annoyed at giving a compliment to a (kind of) human. “As far as payment goes, I was given this to hand over to you.” She pulled a small package out of her pocket and handed it over to Watanuki.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it from her. “Ah, actually, I have something I want you to take to the Zashiki-warashi for me.”

“What?”

He ran back inside to drop off the payment and grab a bag of cookies, then hurried back to the Ame-warashi.

“Here,” he said, holding the bag out for her to take.

She raised an eyebrow as she snatched them up. “So you are cooking.”

“Not really,” he said, shrugging.

“You’re an idiot, Watanuki Kimihiro.”

Watanuki allowed himself to just frown at her.

She scoffed. “But you’ll figure this out.”

“You’re being awfully nice about it,” he said with a small smile.

The Ame-warashi pouted and looked up and away. “You know, she was an old friend of mine.” She didn’t specify who ‘she’ was, but Watanuki knew she meant Yuuko. “Kind of. But no one sticks around forever. We all knew she wasn’t permanent. No one is.”

“She’ll come back,” he told her. He knew she would.

“And you’ll stay here until then?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes.”

“You’ll be here for a long time, Watanuki Kimihiro.”

“I know.”

Her look softened for a moment. “You’re sure about this?”

_No. I’m not sure at all, I thought I was but this is different, this is terrifying, this is dangerous._

_This is my wish. This is my wish, and I can pay the price._

“I chose this. I’ll stay.”

“In that case,” the Ame-warashi began, “good luck.”

And she disappeared in a cloud of raindrops.

A quick pressure in his head. God, it was far too busy these past few days and Watanuki just wanted to sleep.

He hurried to the entrance, but stopped when he heard someone in the kitchen.

Obviously not a customer then.

“By all means, just waltz right in. I’ll report you for breaking and entering some time,” Watanuki said as he entered.

“I’m not breaking anything,” Doumeki replied, holding a bag of takeout and staring at the tray of cookies Watanuki had made earlier that day.

Watanuki snatched the takeout bag from Doumeki’s hands, leaving Doumeki standing there.

“Fine. Not-breaking, entering, and then eating,” he corrected, somewhat concerned at the odd look on Doumeki’s face. “If you’re going to eat it, just do it, your face looks stupid.”

“You made this?” Doumeki asked.

“Yes,” Watanuki confirmed with a pout. “I sent the Ame-warashi back with a gift for the Zashiki-warashi.”

“A gift?” Doumeki turned to face Watanuki, eyebrow raised.

Watanuki sighed, remembering. “Not a gift. I took payment from the Ame-warashi.” He didn’t, really, but the payment was apparently a little too much for the wish. It evened itself out.

What a coincidence.

Doumeki nodded, looking back at the food.

“Eat it,” Watanuki told him. “Quit staring at it.”

“You’re cooking then,” Doumeki said, picking up a cookie.

“I cooked that, yes. As far as payment-”

“This.”

“Eh?”

“The cookies.”

“I… don’t know if it’s even, but I know that this is even,” Watanuki protested, holding up the payment the Ame-warashi gave him.

“This is even.”

Watanuki pouted. “You would have eaten it anyways.”

Doumeki shrugged and shoved the entire cookie in his mouth.

“It’s not even,” Watanuki said decidedly. “Dinner.”

Doumeki’s eyes widened. “Dinner?” he asked through a full mouth.

“Yes, dinner. I’ll cook dinner tomorrow. Don’t get used to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly a random plot chapter! Whooo!
> 
> Anyways, this was a pretty quick update, but it won't always be that fast. The last chapter I'd actually written a month ago and only remembered to post because I wrote this one. I _am_ working on the next chapter, but I don't have any guarantees on when it will be done. I assure you it will though!


	5. Chapter 5

The customer was gone and Watanuki thought for a moment, a brief, hopeful moment, that he’d taken equal payment. He was doing it more and more lately, or at least closer to it than before.

But not today.

Watanuki was cleaning up the tea set when he felt a sharp slash across the right side of his face. It was quick, it was precise, it was painful, and it could have only come from the shop.

He fell to his knees, and looked down to see blood on the front of his kimono, and more was dripping, staining it even further. A shame, this was a beautiful robe and, who knew how old.

Oh god.

Oh god, he was bleeding all over it.

From his face.

He put his hand to his cheek and found it was wet and warm and it hurt when he touched it and now that he was paying attention it stung and he pulled his hand away to find that it was as bloody as the kimono and it was still dripping.

The shop had taken a number of payments from him over the months - more than he’d care to admit to anyone - but it wasn’t ever on his face. This… this wasn’t how the shop worked, right?

Then again, since when did Watanuki know anything about the shop? He knew nothing about this shop and yet he tied himself to it and here it was slashing him across the face.

He quickly pressed his hands over the cut - you’re supposed to put pressure on it, right? how much? for how long? what then? It was still bleeding though, despite him pushing on it - wasn’t that supposed to stop it?

What was he supposed to do?

“Maru! Moro!” he called, and he tasted blood as he opened his mouth.

The girls came running, bandages in tow. They always seemed to know.

“Is Watanuki okay?” they asked in unison, brows knit and faces grim.

“I’m fine,” he said, trying to smile, but it pulled at his cheek and it stung. He curled against the leg of the table, making an effort not to panic. If he panicked, then the girls would panic. “I’m fine,” he repeated - maybe saying it would make it true.

Maru handed him a clean cloth of some sort, and he held it to his wound with one hand and stared down at the blood on his other.

Far more blood than he would like to see from a face wound. Or any wound, for that matter.

He leaned back and took a breath.

“Maru. Moro. Could you bring me the telephone?”

They nodded and brought it to him promptly, then sat down next to him, holding hands.

He wiped the blood off his free hand as best he could, and dialed the number quickly, memorized by now, and hoped, prayed he would pick up.

\--

Doumeki was studying. Well, attempting to study, with the books laid out on the low table and the floor, and him fighting the urge to lay down and close his eyes. His college entrance exams were coming up, plus finishing out his last year of high school, and he was completely swamped. Running other errands for Watanuki and making sure he was alright took up any other energy he had, so Doumeki was ready for bed at six in the evening. 

He did close his eyes then, and rubbed them. More and more he was wondering what the point was. School would only eat up more of his time, and how could he think about college when his best friend was trapped in a magical shop and could never leave. His mother worried, and his father had already lectured him once on his focus. He knew his grades had dropped. His archery had suffered from his constant tiredness, and at this rate he wouldn’t get into the college that he’d wanted. 

Doumeki looked at the practice exam and sighed. 

“Shizuka, the bath is ready,” his mother said, and Doumeki started, looking up at the door. His mother stood there, looking at him in concern. “I called you twice already.”

Doumeki lowered his head. “Sorry, mother.” 

She bit her lip, and then came further in. “Shizuka, are you alright? These past few months seem like you haven’t been yourself. Did something happen?” 

He looked at her, wondering what on earth he could say that wouldn’t be a complete lie. She didn’t even remember Watanuki. 

“I’m alright, mom. Just studying a lot. I’m tired.” 

She smiled, still looking worried, and patted his arm. 

“Alright. Don’t fall asleep in the bath, okay?” she said.

“Right,” he replied, closing a text book in gratitude. She smiled at him, and left the room. 

Then, his cell phone rang, blaring out and making him open his eyes wider to try to wake up. He moved over and answered it, not looking at the caller ID. 

“This is Doumeki,” he said. 

There was a slight breath, away from the receiver, and then the caller spoke. 

“This is Watanuki. Could you come by the shop when you get the chance?” he said, and Doumeki narrowed his eyes. He sounded… off. Like he was concentrating too much on sounding normal. Watanuki so rarely called him, usually it was to bring him some food, or to come get the trash. This sounded different. 

“...Sure,” he said, slowly. “Did you need anything in particular?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Watanuki said, and then there was hiss, like he was in pain. Doumeki frowned in alarm. “I’m running low on bandages though.” 

“You’re hurt.” Doumeki was already moving, taking his phone with him to the hall closet where they kept their medicine box. It had been well stocked, but lately he’d had to raid more and more items from it. 

“Mm,” Watanuki said, “Just a little.” 

He opened it, not sure what he’d need, and then closed it, and just tucked the box under his arm. 

“You’ve never called me for just a little.” Doumeki moved out of his family’s temple, and across the yard at a jog. “Are you bleeding?” he asked, the street moving quickly beneath him. 

Watanuki laughed, or he tried to. The sound was strangled, and then there was a second noise that jarred though his chest. 

“It’s not that bad, I’m sure,” he said, his voice just...not right, with something close to fear or pain in it. Doumeki started to run full tilt, the medicine kit swinging from one hand, and his phone clamped to his ear. 

“You don’t know?” Couldn’t he see? Where was the wound that he didn’t know how much he was bleeding? Or had he already lost enough blood to be confused?

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” Watanuki said, sounding like he was trying to comfort Doumeki, or maybe himself. It didn’t seem to be working for either of them. “I’m in the sitting room.” 

Doumeki was turning down the street, and he could see the shop between the tall buildings. 

“I’ll be there soon,” Doumeki promised, hoping that Watanuki didn’t need anything more than what was in the kit, and pushing away thoughts of blood and being unable to stop it. “Keep talking.”

“It’s not that bad,” Watanuki said, but his voice was quivering. 

“Then why did you call me?” Doumeki demanded, crossing through the gate. “I’m here.”

“I know,” and then there was a click as Watanuki hung up the phone. Doumeki flew into the shop, kicking off his shoes and nearly tripping over the wooden step, before running into the sitting room. Watanuki was on the floor, sitting up and not surrounded by a pool of blood, so it was better than his fears had conjured, but he was pale and trembling, with blood smeared on his face and a red soaked rag pressed to the right side of his cheek. His eyes looked bright and scared, and there was tear trail on the other side, in a clean track through rusty stains. His face was still and impassive. 

Watanuki swallowed, and spoke. 

“I thought I had it,” he said, wide eyed. Doumeki assumed he meant the price. He broke out of his pause, and came forward, kneeling in front of Watanuki on the floor, frowning hard. Watanuki was clutching the soaked rag to his face, and there was far too much blood for the length of time (depending on how long it took Watanuki to call him, hopefully not very). Doumeki reached out, and pulled on Watanuki’s hand, trying to see, and after a moment Watanuki stopped resisting and let him. He closed his eyes, and winced as the cloth came away. 

The cut was long and scarily deep, running from his cheekbone to almost the corner of his mouth. New blood welled up quickly, and it alarmed him to see how much it was still bleeding. Doumeki replaced the rag, though it hadn’t been doing much, soaked through as it was, and pressed Watanuki’s hand back to his face. 

“It looks deep,” he said, around a surge of fear. This is what he’d been afraid of, a wound too deep for just bandages to hold it closed. Any other person he’d take to the doctor, but Watanuki couldn’t leave the shop. 

Watanuki’s hand was trembling against his face, and he kept his eyes scrunched tight. 

“So, I’ll need one of those large bandages and I’ll be careful for a few days,” he said, breathing deliberately. “You brought some, right?” 

The calm, cool shopkeeper he’d seen for months was gone now, and Watanuki shook against his tears. Doumeki didn’t want to say it, as if he could keep it from the truth by keeping quiet. 

“I think it needs stitches.”

Watanuki nodded, and slumped against the leg of the table, looking afraid and resigned. 

“What do you need?” 

Doumeki swallowed, trying to recall the books he’d read (dammit, if only he’d taken a class). “A curved needle. Black thread. Rubbing alcohol. Gloves.” Other things that they didn’t have in either kit, and had no way of getting now, like scalpels and forceps and clamps that he barely remembered the names for. Hopefully he’d be alright without them. “I need to wash my hands,” he said, almost as an after thought. 

“Maru, Moro,” Watanuki said, and the girls quickly stood from their worried kneels. 

“Maru will get the needle and the thread!” 

“Moro will get the alcohol and the gloves!” 

They ran off in opposite directions, and Watanuki turned to Doumeki and opened his eyes. He looked solemn, afraid, but the tears had receded. 

“Go wash your hands.” 

Doumeki nodded and stood feeling a weakness in his knees that he steadied with effort. He walked to the bathroom, scrubbing his hands hard in the stream. When he returned, the supplies were laid out on a tray, and Watanuki was sitting back against the edge of the couch, hand pressed against a new towel on his face. It was starting to get stained through as well, and his kimono was ruined, with blood dripped all down the front, and spattered on the sleeves. Maru and Moro hung back now, clasping each other’s hands. 

Watanuki looked a little calmer, and turned to Maru and Moro. 

“Girls, go find Mokona and play a game,” Watanuki told them. “I’m fine.” He tried to smile, but halted it in the middle, as it must have pulled on his cut. They nodded, and left slowly towards the inside of the shop. 

Watanuki looked back at Doumeki and blinked at him. Doumeki had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his wrists felt exposed and awkward as he knelt in front of Watanuki, and pulled on the gloves. Everything he needed, from the shop’s first aid kit, and apparent medical supply cabinet, as well as the things from his own, had been laid out while he was gone, with the tools he’d need to use soaking in rubbing alcohol like they were supposed to be. The needle was threaded already, and only needed to be picked up. 

Instead, he leaned forward and took Watanuki’s chin, pulling away the cloth, and feeling Watanuki’s tension. He examined the cut for a moment, again, looking at what he’d need to clean it out. Luckily, the shop’s payments were precise and there was no jagged edges or debris inside. He swallowed, met Watanuki’s eyes for a split second, and then set to work. This part he was well practiced at. He’d done this before, more than a handful of times, when Watanuki had misjudged. This was slightly worse than he’d seen, but still the same basically, so he focused on not thinking ahead. Just clean and dab, and ignore the way that Watanuki’s eyelids closed again tight against the sting, and his hands clenched on his knees. Doumeki sat a little angled from Watanuki, holding his chin firmly with his left hand and reached over to dab the right side of his face. It was awkward to reach, and would be worse when he was trying to sew-

His fingers slipped on the tweezer holding the cotton ball, and Watanuki winced. 

Doumeki jerked back slightly, then started dabbing again. 

“Sorry,” he said quietly. 

“Mm, ‘s fine,” Watanuki said, through clenched teeth. 

Doumeki finished cleaning, and then set the cotton ball down. He took a breath and then picked up the needle and thread, holding it gently. He saw Watanuki sneak a look at his hand, and then close his eyes again, looking sick. Doumeki felt sick too, and he wished that he could close his eyes against this. But it had to be done. Watanuki’s wound was still open, and sluggishly leaking blood. It gaped wide, and obviously would pull open at the slightest movement from Watanuki. He normally didn’t scar, but if Doumeki left this, he felt sure there would be a jagged mess and then where would his shopkeeper act be? 

But if he did this and messed up, then wouldn’t it be the same? He’d make it worse by trying to fix it inexpertly. He couldn’t do this. He had the barest of first aid training, and his fingers were thick and broad and not meant for delicate work. 

Doumeki realized he was stalling, even panicking, and so he took a calming breath, like the one he’d take to aim and shoot an arrow. His fingers could sew tiny stitches to attach fletching to the shaft, and his hands were broad because they could notch and arrow and pull. He could do this. 

He reached for Watanuki’s face, then draw back, realizing he’d need both hands for this. 

“Hold as still as you can,” he said to Watanuki, and his body tensed further, doing as he said with no complaint. Doumeki touched the edges of the wound. Like he’d seen before, it was clean and straight and should be easy to stitch up. He pulled it closed, and began. 

It didn’t actually take all that much time to finish sewing Watanuki’s wound closed with tiny, precise stitches. Almost as small as the fletching on an arrow. Doumeki lost his panic as he did it, even as his glove tips were slippery with blood, and with Watanuki tensing and relaxing in intervals under his hands. The skin came together obediently, and he tied each knot, careful not to pull. 

And then it was done. It looked ghastly. The black stitches stood out against Watanuki’s white skin, and blood was smeared all over his face. Doumeki wet a rag with the warm water the girls had brought (they’d thought of far more than he’d remembered) and began to wipe off Watanuki’s face, gently wiping away the mess and cleaning up the sweat and tears under his hairline and eyes. Watanuki kept his eyes closed, but relaxed a little as Doumeki took the time to do this, before patting the whole area dry with another rag. He gently stuck on a square of gauze and then sat back on his feet. 

Watanuki seemed to take that as a cue to open his eyes, and he looked down, cross eyed at his own face before looking back to Doumeki. 

“You learned first aid,” Watanuki said, his face stiff with the bandage. 

Doumeki nodded, shaken. _I had to, because I’m the only one who can help you, and that’s terrifying_.

He bowed his head, and stripped off the gloves, balling them up with each other, blood hidden inside latex. Then, he dropped them on the tray and stood up. The shaking that he’d suppressed was beginning again, in his knees and elbows, and kind of around his throat, and he just- 

“I need to wash my hands,” he said, and left quickly. Doumeki didn’t stumble on the way back to the bathroom, but it was a near thing. Inside the room, he scrubbed his hands and then scrubbed them again, wetting the edges of his sleeves and turning his knuckles red raw. Then, he dried them off, and clutched the towel for a moment, before stepping backwards from the sink, away from the urge to wash again. There hadn’t even been blood on his hands, because of the gloves. 

It was hitting him, _truly_ hitting him, that they were alone here. _Doumeki_ was alone in this. Watanuki was dependent on him the way even a child never was. A parent had outside resources; babysitters, friends, family, doctors… Doumeki was responsible for Watanuki’s food, and health and now stitching _wounds_ , and he couldn’t-

What if it was worse next time? What if it was more than what could be read about in books? It was only luck that he’d even thought to read ahead anyway. Doumeki put a damp hand to his face, and then slid down the wall of the bathroom, shivering at the cold tile against his neck. What would he have done, if he hadn’t been able to remember?

There was noise at the door, and Doumeki looked up to see Maru and Moro standing with their hands clasped, and sadness on their faces. 

“You fixed the master,” Maru said. 

“You fixed Watanuki,” Moro said after.

“But there’s no one to fix you,” they then said together. Doumeki’s throat tightened, and he lifted his arms, just slightly, but it was enough for them. They sailed forward and tucked their arms around him, their heads under his chin. They were warm and childlike, and comforting in his arms. 

He sat there for a long while, while Maru and Moro huddled against him, breathing slowly. Doumeki found himself matching their breaths, and the calm they brought. 

Doumeki had known that this would be hard. When Watanuki had made the decision to stay in the shop, to stop aging and wait for Yuuko to return, Doumeki had felt his steady life tipping out from under him. It was frightening, to realize that someone else’s choice could flip his own world upside down, but he’d made his own choices beforehand that had made that so. And as the weeks and months went on, he realized that he was still waiting too, for everything to go back to normal. Doumeki had considered this as some temporary hell to just get through...but this would be the norm for the rest of his life, and Watanuki’s (which would be much longer now). This was reality now, and Doumeki needed to shore up his strength. He had to live in the outside world, after all. He needed to go to school, and work, and live, moving forward even with his heart tied here in the shop with a boy who’d never grow up. The thoughts were scary, uncomfortable, but necessary. He couldn’t lose himself, not if he wanted to be there for Watanuki. 

Doumeki sighed a little, and moved the girls back.

“Thanks,” he said, and they nodded at him, eyes wide. 

“Doumeki is a part of our family.” Maru said. 

“Doumeki helps, when we can’t,” Moro continued. 

“Maru and Moro should thank you,” they finished. Doumeki felt touched, and put his hands on both their heads, before standing. He had to go find Watanuki, go clean up. He couldn’t hide forever. 

\--

Watanuki slumped against the couch as he watched Doumeki rush out of the room.

Doumeki had taught himself this. In preparation. Watanuki hadn’t even considered it. He hadn’t really considered anything about this. Just did it. Confined himself to the shop without stopping to think about all that entailed.

But Doumeki… Doumeki thought of everything. Doumeki bought him takeout and bandages and everything Watanuki hadn’t even thought about. Doumeki had brought all the things from Watanuki’s old apartment - everything from the blender to his schoolbag. Doumeki was the one keeping him on a schedule of sorts (eat meals at this time, don’t sleep at that time, go to bed it’s late). Doumeki kept in touch, checked on him, hell, he even took out his trash.

Doumeki had learned how to stitch a cut for him.

What else had he done? What else was Doumeki doing for him that Watanuki didn’t even notice? Where was he even getting the money for the food?

And what was Watanuki doing in return?

Nothing.

Nothing but drinking and smoking and sleeping and expecting Doumeki to just be there. Which he always was.

Watanuki would have to do something, because this wasn’t working. This constant take, it… it was hurting him. Not in the same way the wishes did, but it was hurting him, it was hurting _Doumeki_ , he’d have to…

Watanuki didn’t know. Maybe he’d just cook more than a few times a week, and something decent. Give him his savings that he’d completely forgotten about ( _that money still exists, right?_ ). Fix his own wounds, work harder on prices and wishes, drink less, do… something.

He managed to stand up, and made his way to the closet to change. The kimono he wore was now stained with blood and he didn’t want to see it, didn’t want Maru or Moro or Mokona or Doumeki especially to see it, so he tossed it aside, not bothering to fold it correctly as he nearly always did lately. He grabbed a very reasonable yukata and tied it around himself, then hurried to the second bathroom to wash up. He avoided the mirror for now (he could feel it, could see the bandage on his cheek, there was no need for the reminder, he knew, he knew how stupid he was and now all his customers would too, at least until it healed) and scrubbed his hands clean with hot water, then exited to the kitchen, grabbing a pen and paper on the way.

He sat on the counter, and with an unsteady hand, he made a grocery list. Everything he’d need for a fully-stocked kitchen for the next week or two. He’d have to find his school bag to get his wallet, but he had a vague idea on where it might be.

The decision was made, he’d stick with it. He’d cook this week. Even if he didn’t want to, he’d cook. For Doumeki, for himself, for the girls and Mokona and Yuuko, too. Yuuko would be giving him an earful right now.

A pang went through his chest at that thought, but he didn’t let it distract him from his list. He finished it quick, hoping his handwriting was at least somewhat legible, and waited for Doumeki to finish up in the bathroom.

He was about to hop off the counter to search out his bag instead when he finally heard footsteps coming towards the kitchen. He startled, dropping the pen on the floor in time for Doumeki to enter the kitchen, expression unreadable for the moment, and Watanuki hoped his words would come across how he meant them.

“D-Doumeki,” he said, sitting up straighter as he worked on the phrasing he would inevitably ruin.

Doumeki entered, and picked up the pen from the ground to hand to him. Even that he did for Watanuki.

“I made a grocery list,” Watanuki told him, taking the pen from his hand quickly and putting it aside. “I need every item on that list, or you’ll just have to go back, so don’t mess up. Make sure you get the freshest vegetables, and don’t you dare buy anything close to its expiration date.” God knew he’d forget the date and try to use it and ruin an entire meal. “I also want a better pair of cooking chopsticks - mine are bent.”

He took a breath, gauging Doumeki’s reaction before continuing. It didn’t seem to be anything negative though, so he kept going.

“I think I know where my old school bag is. My wallet is in there and should have a some money and a card with decent amount of savings. When I find it, you take it. I can’t use it here, so there’s no point.”

His heart was beating fast and he was still shaking and he didn’t know why, so he took another breath, trying to calm himself down.

“In the meantime, whenever you want a decent dinner, go shopping.”

With that, Watanuki shoved the paper in Doumeki’s direction. The action was harsh, but his expression he kept soft, and not just because anything else would have pulled at his stitches.

Doumeki lifted his eyebrows as he took the paper and looked it over. It was an extensive list, full of everything he could think of for the meals he was planning, a number of Doumeki’s favorites included. Watanuki owed him more than that, he knew, but it was a start.

“You have money for groceries?” was Doumeki’s reply.

Watanuki frowned (which hurt, so he tried to keep it to one side of his face), though he appreciated the very Doumeki-like reaction despite himself.

“Don’t get too excited, it might not work,” he clarified. “I don’t know if the account is still active or not, considering… But it should be.” He hoped. “I need to find my bag first and then you can try it.”

Doumeki nodded and put the grocery list in his pocket, then pulled himself up onto the counter.

“Sure,” he agreed, settling back.

“I’m not cooking tonight, you know,” Watanuki said, still frowning as Doumeki sat next to him. No, not tonight. He needed to clean and prep first and he wasn’t even sure that he had rice. “You’ll have to wait until tomorrow, if you can manage that.”

“Mm,” was Doumeki’s apparent agreement.

They sat there on the counter, Doumeki barely responding and Watanuki frowning at him and for a split second it was nostalgic. And the nostalgia still hurt, because Yuuko was there in the past and she wasn’t here now and how could that be okay, but for once it felt nice. More just the distant familiarity they sometimes found, and less the heart-wrenching reminder that everything was different and wrong and incomplete.

“I’ll clean up,” Watanuki told him suddenly. “Before you bring back my groceries, I’ll clean up. The sitting room too.”

“You should rest,” Doumeki said, taking a breath and sliding off the counter. “Do you want ramen?”

Watanuki considered it and…

“Yes,” he decided. He was still nauseous, but he could tell part of that was probably from hunger, and besides, this would be Doumeki’s last night of cooking, so he may as well eat it. “You want a drink from the back?” Doumeki accepted about half the time as of late, and tonight was really up in the air, but it was rude not to offer.

“Not tonight. You lost a lot of blood,” Doumeki reminded him as he got out the pot and filled it with water.

And there wasn’t even the usual tang of disappointment at a lost drink. 

“You’re eating the egg too.”

“I’ll eat it,” Watanuki assured him, rolling his eyes. “Would you like tea instead?”

“I’ll make it,” Doumeki said, setting the pot on the stove and grabbing the teapot.

Watanuki scowled at him, then winced at the pain in his cheek.

“Give it to me,” he said, sliding off the counter to grab the teapot from Doumeki. “I don’t like the way you make it anyways.” A lie, but god, Watanuki had to do _something_.

So Doumeki made ramen and Watanuki made tea and both were admittedly subpar but considering the evening they’d had, it didn’t really matter.

When they were finished, Doumeki stood. “I have to go study,” he announced. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll bring the groceries tomorrow.”

_And_ he was studying for school. Of course. School was still happening. The world kept moving outside and Watanuki had completely forgotten about it all. (Forgotten, or didn’t care?)

“Go, study. I’m fine here,” he said, waving a hand at the door. “I’ll find that bag.”

Doumeki nodded and left, and Watanuki watched him go and breathed out a sigh when he felt Doumeki leave the barrier. Then he stood up, leaving the mess for just the night, and headed to the bedroom to sleep. Tomorrow was a new day, and he would need an early start if he was going to get anything done.

Which he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was cowritten with my roommate and friend Arisprite, who is far superior with Doumeki than I am, bless her, and was originally supposed to just be a one-shot on its own, but we decided to put it with this. I'm not sure how much Doumeki's POV will continue to show up as this fic progresses at its usual off-and-on pace, so lemme know how you guys feel about that. And also if you guys have any ideas on stuff you want to see or people you want, tell me! Inspire me! Or just read, whatever, it's cool.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Was rereading xxxHOLiC and I was curious about the early days of shopkeeper Watanuki, and... well this happened. There's a lot more to be written here, and I'll come back around and post more for sure. I really could go on and on and on here.
> 
> Special thanks to my roommate (arisprite here on ao3 and everywhere) who helped with Doumeki because sometimes that guy is an enigma to me.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and go find a happy xxxHOLiC fic after this because wow what a downer. :)


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